The Play That Must Not Be Named
by Freelancer
Summary: Superstitious theatre students beware! Hogwarts is putting on a production of 'Macbeth'! Hermione directs, Snape assists, Neville lands the lead, and everything runs smoothly... yeah, right.
1. In which Hermione decides to do a play

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Harry Potter - J.K. Rowling, Macbeth - William Shakespeare. Not Freelancer's.  
  
SUMMARY: Hermione gets it into her head that it would be fun to put on a play, and since almost everyone agrees with her, she gets permission to hold auditions for and direct a play. She doesn't want to do any old play, though... nooo, she's got her sights set on a big one: The Tragedy of Macbeth. It takes hard work and dedication from everyone involved, but they manage to pull it off, and some unlikely friendships are made along the way. However, something goes wrong on opening night, and it's going to take a miracle to make this show go on...  
  
PAIRINGS: Hermione Granger / Severus Snape, because I've wanted to write a story about them for quite some time and never got around to it until now, Albus Dumbledore / Minerva McGonagall, because there's no way I can write something that doesn't have that pairing in it, and minor Neville Longbottom / Parvati Patil, because I think they're cute and it's working pretty well in my other story. ^_^  
  
~~~  
  
"You know what would be really fun?" That was the question Hogwarts's Head Girl, Hermione Granger, had for her two best friends, Ron Weasley and Head Boy Harry Potter, as the two of them walked toward the Great Hall for dinner one night in mid October, about six weeks into their seventh year at the world's finest wizarding school.  
  
"Tying up Draco Malfoy and throwing him into the lake?" Harry said.  
  
"Besides that," Hermione said.  
  
"Cancelling Potions for the rest of the year?" asked Ron.  
  
"No," Hermione said. "I like Potions. It's an interesting class. But anyway, what I was thinking is that it would be really fun to put on a play."  
  
"A play?" Harry and Ron repeated in unison.  
  
She nodded. "Yeah, a play."  
  
"Like, 'To be or not to be'?" asked Ron.  
  
"'That is the question: whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and, by opposing, end them," Hermione finished. "Yes, like that, but probably not Hamlet. I never really liked that play. It frustrates me."  
  
Ron and Harry looked at each other, then nodded. "Right," Harry said. "Okay."  
  
"I mean, think about it," Hermione continued. "Hamlet... the guy had issues. He should have just killed Claudius and gotten it over and done with, but noooo, he had to go think about every little detail, and all those stupid delays cost him and everyone else in the play their-"  
  
"Hermione," Ron interrupted, "we get the point."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes at him, then said, "Hey, if I get permission to put on a play, will you two audition for it?"  
  
"Sure," Harry said, and Ron looked slightly surprised. Harry looked at Ron and shrugged. "Why not?"  
  
"Fine," an exasperated Ron said. "Pick a play, Hermione, and we'll audition for it."  
  
"Yay!" she squealed, and hugged both of them. "Now, what play? We should definitely do something by Shakespeare; the language is just so beautiful, and all his plays are brilliant..."  
  
Hermione began naming off random Shakespearean plays as they sat down at the Gryffindor table near two other seventh-years, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. "What's she going off about this time?" Dean inquired.  
  
"She wants to do a play," Harry answered.  
  
"Will you two audition for it, too?" Hermione asked.  
  
Dean and Seamus looked at each other, then shrugged. "Sure, why not?" Seamus said, speaking for both of them. "What play?"  
  
"I don't know yet," she answered. "Should we do a comedy, a tragedy, or a history?"  
  
"Comedy," said Ron.  
  
"Tragedy," Harry and Dean chorused.  
  
"History!" Seamus said, and when the others gave him strange looks, chuckled and changed his vote to comedy.  
  
"I've been leaning toward tragedy myself," Hermione said. "Shakespeare's comedies are brilliant, but most people here wouldn't understand a lot of the humor, and if tragedies are really well-performed, they can be so moving."  
  
"Okay, then, do a tragedy," said Seamus. "Did you have one in mind?"  
  
She sighed and listed several Shakespearean tragedies. "Othello, Julius Caesar, Cymbeline, Romeo and Juliet, Antony and Cleopatra, King Lear, Richard the Second, Hamlet... but I don't really want to do Hamlet just because it's so darn frustrating." She paused, then nearly shouted, "I've got it! Macbeth!"  
  
"Macbeth?" the boys repeated.  
  
She nodded vigorously. "Uh-huh. Macbeth. You know, double double toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble?"  
  
Ron chuckled. "Fred and George tried doing that in Potions one time. Their cauldrons exploded. Snape wasn't too happy."  
  
"Well, it serves them right," Hermione said. "Those two get in more trouble than anyone I know, and that includes all those present." She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then said, "All right. After dinner, I'll talk to Professor Dumbledore and ask if he'll let me hold schoolwide auditions next week. I should have enough scripts by then. Will you guys do me a favor and ask other people to try out? It's a big cast, and we'll need a lot of people."  
  
"Sure," Dean said. "No problem."  
  
~~~  
  
After dinner, Hermione had to hurry to catch up to the school's headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. She caught him just before he reached the statue of the stone gargoyle, which slid away to reveal a staircase if the password was correct. "Professor Dumbledore!" she called. "Do you have a minute?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes; three, actually. Is everything all right?"  
  
"Yes, everything's fine," she said. "I just wanted to ask you a question. You see, I think it would be a very fun and educational experience if the students put on a play, and I was wondering if you would allow me to organize it."  
  
"A play?" Dumbledore said, interested. "Which one?"  
  
"Macbeth, by William Shakespeare."  
  
"Macbeth," Dumbledore repeated, and smiled. "Excellent play. Did you plan on directing?"  
  
"I was hoping to."  
  
"When do you plan on holding auditions?"  
  
"Next week, if it was all right with you."  
  
He nodded. "Yes, it is perfectly all right with me, Miss Granger, but I do have one request."  
  
Hermione was delighted. "Name it."  
  
"I must ask that you have a faculty member as a production assistant of some sort. I understand that there is swordfighting and other dangerous activity in this play, and although I am fully confident in your ability to be an effective administrator, I would feel much better if there was adult supervision."  
  
That was reasonable. "You've got it, Professor," she said. "Um... did you have a certain faculty member in mind?"  
  
"Well, now that you mention it, Professor Snape would probably be the most qualified..."  
  
Hermione nearly choked. "Professor Snape?"  
  
"Yes," Dumbledore said. Then he smiled as he brought up memories of the past. "The last time the students organized and performed a play was in January of nineteen seventy-six, Severus's fifth year. It was Julius Caesar, and he delivered an amazing performance as Cassius. James Potter was Caesar, Peter Pettigrew was Brutus, Sirius Black was Mark Antony, Lily Evans was Calpurnia, Remus Lupin was Octavius, Lucius Malfoy was Cascus... I could probably name off the entire cast if I so desired, but I don't think this is the time or the place. If you like, I'll speak to Professor Snape and ask him if he'd be willing to assist."  
  
"No, that's all right," she said. "I... I think I should do it." Hermione wasn't fond of Snape, but this was her production. She was determined to organize it herself, and if that meant asking for Snape's help, then that was how it was going to be.  
  
Dumbledore looked mildly surprised. "Very well, then. Please let me know the exact date on which you plan to hold auditions, and we'll make sure the whole school knows. Good luck, Miss Granger."  
  
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said, and headed toward the Potions classroom. Might as well get it over with now.  
  
~~~  
  
Severus Snape had just started correcting a stack of essays from the third-years when a knock on his door caused his concentration to break. He hated interruptions, but everyone knew that, and he was usually not interrupted unless it was a good reason. "Come in," he said.  
  
The door opened, and in stepped Hermione Granger.  
  
Snape felt a surge of irritation mixed with curiosity as Hermione came into his line of sight. He didn't like any of the Gryffindor students, and she was one of the ones he disliked the most. Granted, she had matured from the know-it-all mudblood she had been when she first arrived at Hogwarts into a clever and competent young witch, but that still didn't change the fact that she was born to Muggles. "What do you want, Miss Granger?"  
  
"Is this a bad time?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Yes, but since you're here, you might as well say whatever it is you came here to say," Snape replied.  
  
Hermione silently counted to three to steady herself, and then spoke. "I asked Professor Dumbledore if I could organize and direct a production of Macbeth, and he said that I could as long as I had a faculty member as a production assistant. Your name came up. He said that you were Cassius in Julius Caesar in your fifth year, and... and that you were very good."  
  
All of a sudden, Snape wasn't quite so irritated at being interrupted. He let out a soft sigh and lifted his gaze to the ceiling. "I know where I will wear this dagger then: Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius. Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong; therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat. Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, can be retentive to the strength of spirit; but life, being weary of these wordly bars, never lacks power to dismiss itself. If I know this, know all the world besides, that part of tyranny that I do bear I can shake off at pleasure." Few people knew of his passion for Shakespeare, and he could tolerate anyone that deeply interested in the great playwright and his works, even someone like Hermione Granger - when the subject in question was Shakespeare, of course.  
  
Hermione was blown away. "Professor, that was... that was wonderful!"  
  
Snape fought the urge to smile at the compliment. "Thank you, Miss Granger," he said, trying to sound unenthusiastic. "Yes, we performed Julius Caesar when I was a student. So, you want to do Macbeth? Do you think you can handle it?"  
  
She nodded. "Yes, sir, I think I can. I don't give up easily."  
  
"I know you don't. You've demonstrated your ability to triumph over adversity on several occasions."  
  
Hermione took a deep breath, then said, "Professor Snape, will you be the assistant director?"  
  
An hour later, Snape finally stopped asking himself why he said yes. 


	2. In which several students surprise Hermi...

At dinner the next evening, Albus Dumbledore stood up and said that he had an announcement to make. "It is my pleasure to announce that Hogwarts will be putting on a production of Macbeth, organized and directed by our very own Head Girl, Hermione Granger," the headmaster said. "Auditions for the play will be next Wednesday, from three thirty to six o'clock in Professor Snape's classroom. No experience is required. Please see Miss Granger or Professor Snape for more details and a practice script. Thank you."  
  
"Professor Snape?" Ron repeated when the headmaster sat down. "Why Professor Snape?"  
  
"He's the asssistant director," Hermione answered.  
  
Harry, who had been taking a drink of water at the time, was so surprised that he snorted, and water came flying out of his nose, showering Parvati Patil and Neville Longbottom, who were sitting across the table from him. "Sorry," Harry said, wiping off his face. He looked at Hermione. "Professor Snape?"  
  
"Yes, Professor Snape!" she said, with more than a little irritation in her voice. "He might not be a very pleasant person, but he is qualified. He was Cassius in Julius Caesar in his fifth year, and I heard him recite one of his lines last night. It was very good." She turned her attention to Parvati and Neville. "Are you two going to try out?"  
  
Parvati shrugged. "Why not?"  
  
Neville turned slightly red. "I can't act," he mumbled.  
  
Parvati nudged him with her elbow. "Come on, Nev. You heard what Professor Dumbledore said. 'No experience is required'. We'll try out together. It'll be fun."  
  
He sighed. "Okay, I'll try."  
  
"That's the spirit," Hermione said, smiling at him. "There's about thirty-five parts, so you're practically guaranteed a spot if you read halfway decent. And I'm sure it will be a lot of fun. It'll be a lot of work, too, but a lot of fun."  
  
~~~  
  
Hermione wasn't the only one that thought so. As she was walking back to the Gryffindor tower after dinner, she was approached by no less than twenty students who were interested in trying out for the play. She said she didn't have any practice scripts with her, but she would put them in the Potions classroom so everyone that was interested could pick one up if and when they had that class.  
  
Speaking of Potions, she thought to herself, I should probably stop by there and discuss a few things with the assistant director. She stopped walking toward the Gryffindor tower and changed her direction to the Potions classroom.  
  
"Going my way, Miss Granger?"  
  
The harsh, cynical voice from behind made her turn around, and she saw Severus Snape walking a few strides behind her. "Professor Snape!" she exclaimed. "Um... yes, actually. I was just thinking about one of the parts."  
  
"Which one?" he asked, in a tone of voice considerably kinder than before. For reasons Hermione could not figure out, Snape always seemed nicer when Shakespeare was concerned. In light of discovering they had some common ground, she figured they just might be able to pull off directing the play together.  
  
"Ross," she answered. "I've gone over the script a few times, and I think it's really suspicious how Ross seems to be everywhere at once, and he always knows when to appear and when to disappear. Like in Act Four, Scene Two, where he visits Lady Macduff, he leaves just before the murderers show up. You'd think he would have seen them and warned Lady Macduff about them or something. And in Act Three, Scene One, Macbeth hires two murderers to kill Banquo. But then, in Scene Three, there's three murderers instead of just two, and the third says Macbeth told him to join them. What if the third murderer wasn't just a random hit man? What if he was someone in Macbeth's inner circle, like say..."  
  
"Ross?" Snape finished, catching on to what she was implying.  
  
She nodded.  
  
"You're right. Ross is very suspicious," Snape agreed. "So, do you think we should combine the roles of Ross and the third murderer?"  
  
"If Ross is the third murderer, then I think there's really no other choice."  
  
"Remember, Miss Granger, this is our interpretation of it. Shakespeare left things very open, and there's no telling what he really thought."  
  
"That's true," she said. "Thanks, Professor. Oh, and one more thing. Is it all right if I put the practice scripts in your classroom? That way students that want to try out can just pick up a script when they're done with Potions."  
  
"Very well," Snape said.  
  
Hermione smiled. "Thanks again, Professor. I'll bring them by your room first thing in the morning." She paused, realized what she said, and turned slightly red. "Your classroom, that is."  
  
Snape hadn't even thought about the implications of her statement, but when she corrected it, he, too, was surprised. "Thank you for the clarification, Miss Granger. Good night."  
  
"Good night, Professor," she returned, and headed back toward the Gryffindor tower. She almost couldn't believe it. Did she just have a conversation with Severus Snape without hating him when it was over? And did he actually say good night to her without being sarcastic? It seemed that a little Shakespeare could go a long way.  
  
~~~  
  
Next Wednesday came faster than anyone thought it would, and at three twenty, Hermione arrived in Snape's classroom, only to find that she had been beaten there by about a dozen other students waiting to try out for the play. She saw Harry, Ron, Dean, Seamus, Neville, and Parvati in there, along with several students from the other houses, and more were coming in by the minute. Everyone had a practice script, and they were rehearsing lines with each other. In a way, it was kind of funny to hear them butcher the lines as they practiced. She would have to make it clear to them that this wasn't just a play, it was poetry.  
  
"Anyone impressed you yet?" Hermione asked the assistant director as she walked over to his desk.  
  
"Yes, surprisingly enough," Snape answered, drawing up a chair for her.  
  
"Thanks," she said, and sat down. "Who?"  
  
"Miss Patil reads very well," he replied, "and so does Mr. Potter. He must get it from his parents."  
  
"That's right," Hermione said. "Professor Dumbledore told me that they were Caesar and Calpurnia in Julius Caesar."  
  
"He did, did he?"  
  
She nodded. "He also said he could probably name off the rest of the cast if he tried. Do you think he really remembers it all?"  
  
"I have no doubt. That man doesn't forget anything."  
  
~~~  
  
The next two and a half hours were the longest, most tedious ones of Hermione's life. The students auditioning were sent out into the hall, then instructed to come back inside in groups of two or three to read a selection of their choosing. There were about fifty students trying out, and she was surprised that they managed to listen to each of them in the amount of time that they had. Some people, such as Parvati Patil, Harry Potter, and, to Hermione's surprise, Draco Malfoy, delivered decent performances, but nothing was truly outstanding. So far, none of the students that had read so far seemed adequate for the two lead roles, and Hermione was beginning to wonder if they would ever find their Macbeth and Lady Macbeth.  
  
"Thanks, you three," Hermione said to Hannah Abbott, Padma Patil, and Susan Bones when they finished reading one of the witches' scenes. "Good job." It was good, but it wasn't exceptional.  
  
Hannah, Padma, and Susan left the room with instructions from Snape to send the next group in. Hermione looked at Snape and sighed. "I don't know what to do," she said. "They're all right, but I don't think anyone that's read so far can handle the lead roles."  
  
Snape nodded in agreement. "Are you thirsty?"  
  
"Extremely. Why?"  
  
"I was considering making a water run if you think you can handle listening to the next few groups by yourself."  
  
Hermione almost laughed. "Yes, Professor, I think I can handle it, and thank you."  
  
He exited through one of the side doors, and Hermione sighed, leaned back in her chair, and started staring at the ceiling. "You can begin whenever you're ready," she said when she heard the sound of two pairs of footsteps approaching her.  
  
"The queen, my lord, is dead."  
  
Hermione recognized the voice. It was Colin Creevey's. He'd already read. What was he doing back again? He must be with someone who hadn't read yet.  
  
"She should have died hereafter," the second voice said. "There would have been time for such a word. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day to the last syllable of recorded time, and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle. Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."  
  
She couldn't believe her ears. The delivery was perfect. She hadn't heard such an amazing rendition of Shakespeare since hearing Snape recite the selection from Julius Caesar last week. Finally, here was something who was reading it as poetry and not prose. For a moment, she thought it was Snape playing a trick on her, but she knew Snape's voice, and that voice was definitely not Snape's.  
  
Hermione lowered her gaze from the ceiling and fixed it on the boy standing in front of her. "Neville," she said, trying to keep her voice calm in hopes that it would stop her from exploding with excitement, "where on Earth did you get the idea that you couldn't act?"  
  
Neville looked surprised. "It was good?"  
  
She nodded. "Yes, it was very good."  
  
His expression went from surprised to hopeful. "Do you think I'll get a part?"  
  
Hermione laughed. "Yes, I think we can find a place for you," she answered.  
  
As Neville and Colin exited the room, she picked up the cast list and wrote down Neville's name.  
  
~~~  
  
"What is it she does now?" asked Ginny Weasley, reading the part of the doctor in the first scene in Act Five about five minutes after Neville and Colin left. "Look how she rubs her hands."  
  
"It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her hands," said Megan Jones, who was reading the part of the gentlewoman. "I have known her continue this a quarter of an hour."  
  
"Yes, here's a spot," said Lisa Turpin, this group's Lady Macbeth.  
  
"Hark, she speaks," said Ginny. "I will set down what comes from her to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly."  
  
"Out, damned spot; out, I say," said Lisa. "One, two - why, then, 'tis time to do't..."  
  
Hermione, who was quite impressed with one of the girls' reading skills, took a drink of the water Snape had brought her and exchanged a look with the assistant director. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she whispered as Lisa continued to read.  
  
"Probably," Snape answered, and showed her what he had written down.  
  
She nodded. "Yeah, that's what I was thinking."  
  
"... to have had so much blood in him?" Lisa finished.  
  
"Good job, girls," Hermione said. "Would you be so kind as to send the next group in?"  
  
The next group was Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Terry Boot. They read the second scene in Act One, with Seamus reading the part of Malcolm, Dean reading Captain, and Terry reading King Duncan. Hermione thought Dean read the part of the captain very well, and wrote his name with a question mark next to it down on her paper. When she showed it to Snape, he nodded, and she scribbled out the question mark.  
  
"Thanks, guys," Hermione said when they finished. "Are you the last ones?"  
  
The boys nodded. "Yeah," said Terry.  
  
"Super. Thanks again." The boys left, and Hermione looked at Snape. "Let's get casting."  
  
~~~  
  
A/N: What do you think it? Is it good? Is it worth continuing? Let me know, and fear not, all you AD/MM-ers, they're coming. ^_^ 


	3. In which Albus and Minerva have a bad da...

A/N: Quick notes to reviewers before I begin. Thanks to everyone for reading, and don't forget to pick up a copy of 'Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets' on video or DVD today! ^_^ Oh, and a quick warning: this chapter is a teeny bit sad...  
  
Manaliabrid - I will! I will! I will! ^_^  
wouwie - Thank you. Here's the update!  
Minerva of Tortall - Oooh, you were a witch? Fun! My best friend was a witch. ^_^ No, Albus and Minerva aren't going to have parts in the play; the only faculty member directly involved is Snape, but I thought about putting them in! And I haven't forgotten about 'Obsessions'... :-) Thanks for reading.  
Aeryn Alexander - I had to memorize the captain's speech. ^_^ Like I said, I've wanted to do a Snape/Hermione story for a while... I hope I can make them believable! *crosses fingers*  
Aahz - Thank you!We read 'Macbeth' in AP English, as well as 'Hamlet' and 'A Midsummer Night's Dream', and I was in 'Romeo and Juliet'. Can you tell that I've got a Shakespeare fetish? ^_^ Thanks for reading!  
Lemon-Drops - Hmm... so you like 'Macbeth' and 'Julius Caesar'? Cool... (hey, maybe when this is done, I should write a prequel in which the Marauders and company perform 'Julius Caesar'! ^_^) And Hamlet is EXTREMELY frustrating! But anyway, thanks for reading.  
klo - Thank you! ^_^ Here's the update.  
MK - Thanks. Hope you like the new chapter!  
SperryDee - Wow, that's an impressive resume! (In English, I read Lady Macbeth in 'Macbeth', King Claudius in 'Hamlet', and Nick Bottom in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'. When we performed 'Romeo and Juliet' a few months ago, I was Lord Montague, which is really funny because I'm a GIRL!) I'm glad you like the story, and best of luck to you in your upcoming productions!  
  
~~~  
  
"Hey, Hermione, do you have a cast list yet?"  
  
That was the question Ron tried to ask Hermione at breakfast the next morning, but since his mouth was full of toast, it came out as, "Hm, Hmummy, boo you haff a caff list yet?" He swallowed his toast right after saying "have", so the last part of his sentence was discernable.  
  
"Come again?" Hermione said, confused.  
  
Ron swallowed the last few crumbs of toast still lingering in his mouth and said, "Do you have a cast list yet?"  
  
"Oh." She smiled mischievously. "Yes. It took Professor Snape and I about two hours to make it up, but we got it."  
  
"How can you stand working with him?" asked Seamus, who was sitting a few feet away. "He's... he's... Snape!" he said, unable to think of a better reason off the top of his head.  
  
"Lame, Seamus," said Harry. "Really lame."  
  
Seamus frowned. "I know, but still, that should be enough."  
  
"He's not too bad," Hermione said, "especially when it comes to Shakespeare. He might not be too pleasant the rest of the time, but when it comes to Shakespeare, at least he's civil."  
  
"Well, I'm just glad he wasn't there when I read," said Neville. "He probably would have laughed me out of the room."  
  
A look of exasperation crossed Hermione's face. "You read wonderfully," she said. "I'm not supposed to say what parts you all got, but Neville, I will let you know that your part is... important."  
  
"You told us at auditions that all the parts were important," commented Dean.  
  
"Well, they are, so I guess you could say that I really didn't give anything away with saying that Neville's part is important." She finished off her glass of orange juice, stood up, and said, "If you'll excuse me, please, I need to see Professor McGonagall about something before I post the cast list. See you in Charms." Charms was their first class of the day.  
  
Neville looked at the others. "Do you really think I got a part?" he said.  
  
"She just said you did," Seamus said.  
  
"Oh," Neville said apologetically.  
  
Dean sighed and looked Harry. "Harry, what part did you want?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "It would be cool to be Macbeth, but I don't think I read well enough to land that one, so I guess Banquo or Macduff. Malcolm would be all right, too."  
  
"Who do you think will get Macbeth?" asked Parvati.  
  
"Probably Malfoy," said Harry. "I heard he read pretty well, and... well, Snape. Enough said."  
  
"I don't know, Harry," said Parvati. "Anthony Goldstein and I read a Macbeth/Lady Macbeth scene together, and he was good. I'm sure he'll get a major part, if not the lead."  
  
A mischievous twinkle appeared in Ron's eye. "All right. Let's place bets. The winners get bragging rights, and the losers have to bow down at their feet and say, 'I am not worthy.'" He looked around at the circle of seventh-years that consisted of himself, Harry, Dean, Neville, Seamus, and Parvati. "I'll start, and we'll go in a circle. I think Malfoy got it."  
  
"Malfoy," agreed Harry, who was next in the circle.  
  
"Sure, Malfoy," said Neville.  
  
"Anthony," said Parvati, "but you already knew that."  
  
"Justin Finch-Fletchley," said Seamus. "I heard him practicing a scene with Hannah Abbott, and he was good."  
  
"I think you got it, Harry," said Dean, and when Harry laughed, he said, "No, seriously! You were good! Anyone could see that."  
  
Harry grinned. "Hey, I could always hope for an understudy."  
  
Ron made a face. "But Malfoy's understudy? I'd almost rather not be in it at all."  
  
~~~  
  
When Hermione arrived at the Transfiguration classroom, she was surprised to find that it was open a few inches. In all her years at Hogwarts, she could never remember seeing that door open that amount. Usually, it was shut, and when it wasn't shut, it was open all the way. Open only a few inches was highly unusual for the perfectionist that was Minerva McGonagall, and Hermione wondered if something was wrong.  
  
Then, she heard a voice coming from inside. "We'll get through this, Minerva. We can do it." It almost sounded like Professor Dumbledore, but this voice seemed to weak, too melancholy to belong to the headmaster.  
  
"Oh, Albus," came the broken, choked voice of Professor McGonagall, "how can this be possible? They had so much life in them... so much to live for..."  
  
Hermione stole a glance inside, and sure enough, there they were: the headmaster and deputy headmistress, standing in the middle of the room, holding on to each other as if the other was the only thing they had left in the world. Their faces were twisted with the amount of despair that comes only from losing someone very dear to the heart. She wondered what could have happened.  
  
"Their son is dead," came a whisper from behind.  
  
Hermione turned around at the sound of the soft voice and saw Severus Snape standing a few feet away. He, too, looked upset, but nowhere near as much as Dumbledore and McGonagall did. A million questions formed in Hermione's head, and it took a few moments before one finally worked its way to her lips. "Their son?" she repeated.  
  
Snape nodded. "Yes, their son," he confirmed.  
  
"Are they... married?"  
  
He nodded again, then glanced at the door. "Let's walk," he said. They began walking down the hall with no destination in mind, and Snape continued. "They've been married for over forty-five years. Their son, Gabriel, is - was - two years older than me. They received the message early this morning. Gabriel, his wife, and their two children are dead."  
  
Hermione gasped and stopped walking. "No..."  
  
"I'm afraid so." He stopped, too.  
  
"But how?"  
  
"Gabriel was an ambassador from our Ministry of Magic to the one in Japan, and they've lived there for the last six or seven years," Snape said. "There was an earthquake there last week, and their names were on the list of the confirmed dead."  
  
Hermione could feel tears stinging her eyes. "That's... that's horrible!"  
  
"I hope you didn't have your heart set on attending Transfiguration today, because I believe that class has been cancelled."  
  
She didn't have to ask why. "Well, if nothing else, that will give me some extra time to work on some of the blocking for the play." Then, another question worked its way into her mind. "Professor, with all due respect, why did you tell me about... about them, and about their son?"  
  
"Why?" Snape repeated. "Because you would have found out sooner or later. Because you deserved to know why Albus and Minerva were so upset. Because I like you."  
  
Hermione was shocked. "I always thought you hated me!"  
  
"Don't flatter yourself, Miss Granger. Sorry to disappoint you, but there is only one person in this world whom I truly 'hate', and the only reason I joined him was because I knew he liked me and Dumbledore needed a spy in You-Know-Who's inner circle. I can even find Potter tolerable on occasion, believe it or not."  
  
She thought about asking why he was always so mean to her in Potions, but thought better of it and kept silent.  
  
"You're a good student, Miss Granger, and you know Shakespeare." A smile flickered on his lips for a moment at that one. "Don't let that go to your head, though, or I forsee several points being taken off Gryffindor house in the future."  
  
Hermione didn't believe in Divination, but when the future was coming from Snape regarding house points, she could make an exception. "I won't. Thank you."  
  
"For what?" Snape asked.  
  
"For telling me about Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall's son and for being honest about your opinion of me."  
  
"And don't give thanks out when thanks are not due."  
  
Hermione felt that was really her call, but knew better than to say that. One did not spend seven years in Snape's Potions classes and not pick up a few things about the subject's tempermental instructor. She decided to change the topic to Shakespeare before things had the chance to get ugly. "I have the final draft of the cast list," she said. "Do you want to review it one more time?"  
  
"No, that's all right," he replied. "I think we agree on everything except who should play Macbeth."  
  
She sighed. So much for avoiding ugly. "You didn't hear him read, Professor. It blew me away. Believed me, I was as shocked as you are."  
  
"Whatever," Snape said dismissively. "If he cannot do the job, though, are we at least in agreement on who should take over?"  
  
She nodded. "Anthony Goldstein."  
  
"Correct."  
  
"But there's no understudies, so if we have to change parts around-"  
  
"We'll make it work," Snape said. "Besides, if your judgement is correct, then there will be no need to worry about that, will there?"  
  
His tone wasn't patronizing at all, which surprised her. "We'll see," she said. "I think you'll agree with me once you hear him read, though. He's our Macbeth."  
  
"Point taken, Miss Granger. I'll give him a chance."  
  
~~~  
  
Back in the Transfiguration classroom, Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall began to feel capable of standing on their own, so they gradually let go of each other. "I've cancelled your classes for today," Dumbledore said.  
  
"Thank you," Minerva returned. Under any other circumstances, she would have protested his decision, but even she knew when to make the call over when was and was not able to teach, and today, she was definitely not. "If you have work to do-"  
  
"I have a stack of paperwork that almost reaches the ceiling, but it will all have to wait until tomorrow," he replied. "I'm not going anywhere, and if I do go anywhere, it won't be more than three feet from you." He reached out and stroked his wife's tear-stained cheek. "We'll get through this. I don't know how yet, but we will get through this."  
  
She was able to find some comfort in his words, but not enough. Their son and his family were dead. Gabriel, who looked and acted so much like his father, sweet, patient Cora, and little Nicolas and Anna - all dead. She remembered how difficult it was for them to have Gabriel. After three previous miscarriages, she finally had a successful pregnancy, only to go into labor six weeks early. The ordeal nearly killed both of them and left her unable to bear any more children. Their son, the child they worked so hard and risked so much for, was dead. How did someone overcome something like this?  
  
That's how, she thought, her eyes locking with her husband's. They would be here for each other. So many things in the world changed, but their love never did. Not even the death of their son could change that.  
  
Slowly, Minerva nodded her head. "I know."  
  
They hugged each other again, and the tears flowed freely.  
  
~~~  
  
"I don't understand," Hermione said as she and Snape changed directions. They now had a destination: the Great Hall, where she planned to post the cast list just outside the entrance. "How come they never told us that they're married?"  
  
Snape shrugged. "No reason to. The Daily Prophet had a field day when they announced their engagement shortly after her graduation, but after a while, it became old news."  
  
Hermione was stunned. "'Shortly after her graduation'?" she repeated. "Do you mean to tell me that they were involved while she was a student?"  
  
"They weren't the first, and they weren't the last," Snape said coolly. "It's generally not viewed upon with acceptance, but it has been known to happen."  
  
"No wonder the Daily Prophet had a field day," she mumbled under her breath.  
  
Snape changed the subject to something he was more comfortable talking about. "We'll have to start rehearsals immediately," he said. "When is the performance date?"  
  
"New Year's Eve."  
  
"Then we have a little more than two months. Do you think we can do it in that amount of time?"  
  
"How many months did you work on Julius Caesar?"  
  
"Four."  
  
"Is that too soon?"  
  
Snape thought for a moment, then said, "I think we can do it in two, but it will take work, and lots of it, especially from you."  
  
"If you're trying to get me to back out, Professor, it's not going to work. I'll let everyone know that we'll start with an all-call to read through the entire thing after classes today in the Potions classroom." They parted ways, and Hermione continued to walk toward the Great Hall while Snape changed his route to the direction of his classroom.  
  
Excellent choice of words, Miss Granger, Snape thought to himself as he walked. Had you been born a pureblood, you may have made a good Slytherin. 


	4. In which the cast list is posted

A/N: Yay, the cast list is finally up. To the best of my knowledge, all of these characters are canon. Thank you.  
  
~~~  
  
Hermione's stride was swift and determined as she made her way toward the Great Hall. Her mind was spinning with what she had just learned from Snape. Dumbledore and McGonagall were married and their son was dead. She wondered what secrets the rest of the faculty had. She'd probably find out a lot of things if she ever joined their ranks. Hermione hadn't really told anyone, but she often entertained thoughts of being a Hogwarts instructor herself some day. If nothing else, she would be very qualified for Muggle Studies, being a Muggle-born witch and all. She didn't think she'd ever become powerful enough to teach something like Transfiguration, but one of the minor subjects just might be right for her.  
  
As Hermione drew closer to the Great Hall, she saw that a lot of students were waiting around. "Hi, Hermione," said Harry, waving at her. "Did you talk to Professor McGonagall?"  
  
Hermione bit her lip. "Um... no, I didn't. There's no Transfiguration classes today. Use the time to study your lines."  
  
"Lines?" Harry repeated. "I got a part?"  
  
"Of course you got a part. You were one of the better readers." She glanced around. "Are all these people waiting for me to post the cast list?"  
  
"Probably," Harry answered.  
  
Hermione worked her way to the wall next to the entrance and pulled a sheet of parchement out from her bookbag. It was the final draft of the cast list. She unrolled it and attached it to the wall with a sticking charm. "Cast list!" someone shouted, and Hermione was nearly trampled by all the students who crowded around to see it. She managed to get out in time, though, and stood off to the side.  
  
"Look," Parvati Patil commented as she and Neville Longbottom came out of the Great Hall and saw the crowd. "Hermione must have posted the cast list."  
  
Neville cringed. "I can't bear to look."  
  
"Fine," she said. "I'll look. Watch, you're probably Banquo or something."  
  
He wrung his hands together and mumbled something that sounded like, "Probably not."  
  
Parvati gave him a reassuring smile, then squeezed her way through the crowd in order to get a look at the cast list.  
  
~  
  
King Duncan - Justin Finch-Fletchley  
Malcolm - Anthony Goldstein  
Donalbain - Kevin Entwhistle  
Captain - Dean Thomas  
Macbeth - Neville Longbottom  
Lady Macbeth - Ginny Weasley  
Seyton - Michael Corner  
Porter - Ernie McMillan  
Banquo - Draco Malfoy  
Fleance - Colin Creevey  
Macduff - Harry Potter  
Lady Macduff - Pansy Parkinson  
Macduff's Son - Dennis Creevey  
Ross - Terry Boot  
Lennox - Ron Weasley  
Angus - Seamus Finnigan  
Caithness - Hannah Abbott  
Menteith - Millicent Bulstrode  
Siward - Owen Cauldwell  
Young Siward - Graham Pritchard  
Doctor - Padma Patil  
Gentlewoman - Susan Bones  
English Doctor - Stephen Cornfoot  
First Murderer - Vincent Crabbe  
Second Murderer - Gregory Goyle  
Third Murderer - Terry Boot  
Hecate - Parvati Patil  
First Witch - Lisa Turpin  
Second Witch - Lavender Brown  
Third Witch - Tracey Davis  
First Apparition - Elenor Branstone  
Second Apparition - Orla Quirke  
Third Apparition - Natalie MacDonald  
Old Man - Wayne Hopkins  
Messenger - Megan Jones  
ALL-CALL, AFTER CLASSES IN POTIONS CLASSROOM TO READ THROUGH ENTIRE THING. BE THERE. - H.G.  
  
~  
  
"Neville!" Parvati practically screamed as she saw his name. "Neville, where are you?"  
  
Neville waved at her.  
  
Parvati forced her way back out and ran toward him. "Neville, I don't believe it!" she cried, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly. "I'm so proud of you!"  
  
"What part did I get?" he asked.  
  
"Macbeth!" she exclaimed, and kissed him on the cheek.  
  
Neville was shocked. "I am?"  
  
"Yes!" she answered, hugging him even tighter.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"Hecate," she answered. "Not a major part, but I've got a few speeches. You, on the other hand... you're Macbeth! Wow!" She kissed him again.  
  
The other students were also reacting to their parts. "Um, Hermione?" Terry Boot called. "I think there's a mistake. I was double-cast."  
  
"No, you weren't," Hermione answered. "Professor Snape and I decided that Ross and the third murderer are the same person."  
  
"Ha!" Gregory Goyle said, looking at Draco Malfoy. "You're Banquo! Crabbe and I get to kill you!"  
  
"And Boot," Vincent Crabbe added.  
  
"Oh yeah, and Boot," Goyle said. He paused, then said, "We kill Boot, too?"  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. "No, you moron. You, Crabbe, and Boot kill me." Draco was elated at landing the part of Banquo, but he didn't dare show it.  
  
"Nice!" Harry said when he saw who he was. "Macduff!"  
  
"I'm Lennox," said Ron. "Who's that?"  
  
"A Scottish nobleman," Hermione answered.  
  
"Ugh," said Pansy Parkinson. "Lady Macduff." She glared at Harry.  
  
"Relax," Hermione said. "You two don't even have any scenes together."  
  
Pansy appeared less irritated.  
  
"Lady Macbeth!" Ginny shrieked when she saw her part. "Really?"  
  
Hermione smiled and nodded. "Really."  
  
"I'm going to hug someone!" Ginny cried, and, arms opened wide, turned to the nearest person. She froze when she saw that it was Draco Malfoy and said, "But not you!"  
  
"Thanks," Draco mumbled.  
  
Ginny opted to hug Justin Finch-Fletchley instead, who was in a daze over landing the part of King Duncan.  
  
Millicent Bulstrode blinked and scratched her head. "Isn't Menteith a man?"  
  
"We had to do some cross-casting because there weren't enough female parts for all the girls that tried out," Hermione answered. "You weren't the only one."  
  
Millicent didn't look delighted, but she didn't look angry, either. She began talking to Pansy Parkinson. Pansy glanced at Harry, and the two girls giggled.  
  
"Cool!" said Anthony Goldstein. "Malcolm! Sweet!"  
  
Kevin Entwhistle came over to him and smiled. "Hey, big brother," he said, and they high-fived.  
  
Justin Finch-Fletchley joined them and said, "Hello, sons," and all three of them laughed.  
  
Hermione felt good. She enjoyed seeing how excited her fellow students were over the play. The best reaction, she felt, was Neville's, simply because he didn't have one. All he did was stand there with a blank look on his face as people came over and congratulated him. She hoped he would get over his shock in time for the all-call, though.  
  
Harry made his way over to Hermione, and she smiled at him. "Hi, Macduff."  
  
"Hi, Director," he replied, smiling as well. Then, he got to the point. "Okay, was I hearing things a few minutes ago, or did you say there were no Transfiguration classes today?"  
  
"No, you weren't hearing things," she said. "There's no Transfiguration classes today."  
  
"Why?" Harry asked.  
  
She searched her brain for an excuse that wouldn't give away what she knew. "Um... something came up, and Professor McGonagall won't be able to teach today."  
  
A look of concern crossed Harry's face. "What happened?"  
  
So much for that idea. She decided to just tell him the truth and get it over with. "Her son and his family were killed in an earthquake in Japan last week, and they just found out."  
  
"That's horrible!" Harry said. Then, in a confused tone of voice, said, "She has a son?"  
  
Hermione replied in the affirmative.  
  
Even more confused, Harry asked, "She's married?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"To who?"  
  
"To whom," Hermione corrected, and said, "Believe it or not, she's married to Professor Dumbledore."  
  
Harry slapped himself.  
  
"What did you do that for?" a confused Hermione asked.  
  
"Just making sure I was awake," he said. "I thought you said she was married to Professor Dumbledore."  
  
"I did, you dip," she said. "If I repeat it, will you slap yourself again? That was pretty funny."  
  
Harry blinked twice. "That's crazy."  
  
"I don't think so, but it's really not our business either way," Hermione said. "Just leave them be. And get working on those lines. You've got a big part, Macduff."  
  
"Yeah, I know," Harry said as Hermione excused herself and walked away. "I get to kill Neville."  
  
Neville heard his name. "What was that?"  
  
"I said I get to kill you!" Harry called.  
  
"Oh, that's nothing!" Parvati said. "Crabbe and Goyle get to kill Malfoy!"  
  
"And Boot," Goyle said.  
  
Crabbe blinked and scratched his head. "We kill Boot, too?" 


	5. In which history starts to repeat itself

The route to Potions took Severus Snape past the Transfiguration classroom again, and just as he was passing by, the door opened, and Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall stepped out into the hall. "Hello, Severus," Dumbledore said.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore," Snape said with an acknowledging nod of his head. "Professor McGonagall." He glanced to the left, and then to the right before giving them his full attention, as if to make sure no one was nearby. "All things considered, how are you?"  
  
"We'll survive," Dumbledore said, and took Minerva's hand. "Somehow, we'll get through this."  
  
Minerva only nodded.  
  
Snape glanced down the hall again, and without looking at them, said softly, "He was a good friend."  
  
"You two had an understanding," Dumbledore said. Few Gryffindors and Slytherins ever attained a degree of friendship reached by Gabriel Dumbledore and Severus Snape. Dumbledore couldn't help but notice the irony in the situation. Snape and Gabriel became friends while working on Julius Caesar, which Gabriel directed. Now Snape was working on Macbeth with another Gryffindor, Hermione Granger, who was also directing, and he seemed to be developping an understanding with her as well. "It would also seem that history is repeating itself."  
  
Snape knew at once that he was talking about how he became friends with Gabriel and knew he was comparing it to his forming ability to cooperate with Hermione in the name of Shakespeare. My, my, what a small world this is, he thought to himself.  
  
"Have you decided on a performance date for Macbeth?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
Snape nodded. "New Year's Eve."  
  
Dumbledore looked at Minerva, and both of them nodded. Dumbledore turned his attention back to Snape and said, "Do you think it would be possible to reserve two seats, preferably near the front, for two former professors who recently lost their daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren in a tragic natural disaster? Both of them are avid Shakespeare fans, and I'm sure they would love to see you work again."  
  
A look of surprise crossed Snape's face, and Dumbledore inquired about it. "Nothing," Snape said. "I just... I didn't think he was alive anymore, that's all."  
  
"Armando Dippet is five years younger than I am, Severus," Dumbledore said, "and I'm still here."  
  
Snape had seen the former headmaster of Hogwarts three times in his life. The first was at the opening night for Julius Caesar. The second was later that same year at graduation. The third was at Gabriel Dumbledore's wedding. From what Snape understood, Dippet retired as headmaster in 1951, then served as Minister of Magic for seven years, until his daughter was born. "Indeed," Snape said. "Very well, then. I will speak to Miss Granger about arranging that. I'm sure it will be no problem." He paused, then said, "I know I have a photo of Gabriel and Cora on opening night somewhere in my collection. If you like, I will try to find it and bring it to you."  
  
"Thank you," Minerva said, who had remained silent until that point.  
  
Snape excused himself and began to walk away. Dumbledore and Minerva watched him go, then looked at each other. "You had to say that it seems like history is repeating itself, didn't you?" Minerva asked.  
  
"You know, Minerva, I hadn't even thought about the double meaning in that phrase until now," Dumbledore said. "If you hadn't said something, I probably never would have thought about it at all." He leaned over, kissed her on the cheek, and added, "But in all actuality, do you really think that could happen in this situation?"  
  
"No one ever thought Severus and Gabriel would become friends," she replied quietly.  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "You're right. You usually are. We will have to watch them very closely."  
  
She took his arm, and they began walking toward his office. There was a letter that needed to be written to some old friends. "It will be hard for us to do that without turning into hypocrites," she commented.  
  
"We might not have been 'right', Minerva, but I don't think anyone would say that we were wrong."  
  
~~~  
  
When Snape reached his classroom, the first thing he looked at was the clock in the corner. It was eight forty-two. Classes began at nine o'clock. That meant that in eighteen minutes, he had to search for the picture and set up for first class, and he knew he would never be able to do that. The picture would just have to wait. The second-years were making Swelling Solution today, and as it was, he would be hard-pressed to have enough Deflating Draught ready in time for the class. They were a rambunctious group, and he was sure to have at least one catastrophe. He put finding the picture in the back of his mind and set to work making the potion.  
  
Snape had finished laying out enough ingredients for two batches of Deflating Draught and was starting on the first batch when there was a knock on his door. "Who is it?" he called.  
  
"It's me, Professor Snape. This will only take a minute, if that." The voice belonged to Hermione Granger.  
  
He decided that he had a minute. "Come in, Miss Granger."  
  
She opened the door and came inside. "I was just thinking about Act Three, Scene Three," she said. "That's the one where Banquo is murdered."  
  
"Yes. What about it?"  
  
"Should we make it obvious that the third murderer is Ross? I mean, like have him look directly at the audience or something?"  
  
"You're the director, Miss Granger." He added some crushed scarab beetles to his cauldron.  
  
"You're the assistant director, Professor Snape."  
  
Normally, he would have rebuked her for giving him a reply like that, but in this situation, he was almost amused by their battle of wits. Shakespeare was one of his favorite things to discuss, and although he wasn't about to admit it to Hermione, he felt honored and excited to be a part of this production. "All right. The murderers are exiting. The first two carry Banquo's body off. The third watches them, then looks at the audience just long enough for them to realize that he's Ross, and then leaves. Subtle, yet insightful."  
  
Hermione nodded. "I like it. I was thinking something along that line, too." She glanced at the ingredients in front of him, then said, "Are you making Deflating Draught?"  
  
"Yes, I am." For a moment, he thought about asking her to make the second batch. It would certainly save him some time, but he hated the idea of owing her a favor. Besides, her class started in sixteen minutes. She might be able to finish a batch, but it would be pushing the time limits.  
  
"I see that you have enough ingredients for two batches, but only enough time for one. Need an extra pair of hands?"  
  
Well, so much for not owing her a favor. He couldn't exactly refuse when she saw that he was in a predicament. "Yes, and thank you. There's a cauldron over in that cabinet."  
  
Hermione set her bookbag on the floor, walked over to the cabint, removed a cauldron, and carried it back over to his table. "I just posted the cast list," she said, lighting a fire below the cauldron.  
  
"Really?" Snape said, his interest perking. "Were there some interesting reactions?"  
  
She nodded as she poured in some water. "Yeah. Crabbe and Goyle were pretty excited over the fact that they get to kill Malfoy, and you should have seen Neville when Parvati told him that he landed the part of Macbeth. I don't think he's blinked yet."  
  
"I want to hear him read," Snape said. "That role is not yet final."  
  
"Trust me, Professor. Neville is amazing. Truth be told, I didn't know he had it in him, but I was wrong. Could you pass me the essence of belladonna, please?"  
  
Snape handed her the desired ingredient. She thanked him and added some to her cauldron. He put some billywig stings into his concoction and then cast a stirring spell. Hermione chuckled when she saw him do that. "A stirring spell, Professor?" she said. "You always made us mix it by hand."  
  
"A stirring spell is appropriate when it's a low-level potion and the mixer is short on time," Snape replied. "It's more potent when it's mixed by hand, but I doubt anything concocted by the second-years is going to be too strong for this. I know it's not exactly setting a good example, but desperate times call for desperate measures."  
  
"Your secret is safe with me, Professor," Hermione said, and poured some Bundimun secretion into her potion.  
  
"Careful," Snape said, gently guiding her hand away from the cauldron as she finished adding that ingredient. "Too much of that will ruin the potion."  
  
Hermione almost jumped when he touched her, and she was surprised to find that her heart rate was accelerating even after he pulled his hand away. "Thank you, Professor Snape, but I think I had it under control."  
  
"My apologies," he said, and checked his potion. It was almost done. He halted the stirring spell, extinguished the flame, and then added a pinch of chopped daisy roots into the mix. He glanced at the clock out of the corner of his eye. She now had thirteen minutes. "What class do you have first?"  
  
"Charms," she answered.  
  
"Switch potions with me. You can finish off mine and still make it to class on time, and I'll finish yours."  
  
They switched places, and Hermione stirred the nearly-finished potion with a wooden spoon. "Are we still on for the all-call after classes?" she asked.  
  
He nodded and reached for the crushed scarab beetles. "Oh, I just added the scarab beetles," Hermione said, instinctively reaching out to stop his hand before it arrived at the ingredient. When their fingers touched, she quickly pulled her hand away and mumbled an apology.  
  
"The all-call is a go," Snape said, and added some powdered root of asphodel to the potion. He then remembered Dumbledore's request, and decided that now was as good a time as any to bring it up. "When we perform the play, Professor Dumbledore requested that seats be reserved for two former instructors who are both Shakespeare fans and lost a child and grandchildren in the same disaster that he and Professor McGonagall did. Do you think that would be possible?"  
  
Hermione nodded. "Totally. Let me guess: this child of theirs was Gabriel Dumbledore's wife."  
  
Snape replied in the affirmative.  
  
"All right. Give me the names, and I'll write them down when I get to Charms."  
  
"Armando Dippet and Indira Nay."  
  
Hermione nearly dropped her spoon. "Armando Dippet's still alive?" she said in disbelief.  
  
Snape thought about saying that he had a similar reaction to that news, but thought better of it and kept silent. "Yes, he is. He's younger than Professor Dumbledore, believe it or not, but not by much."  
  
"Interesting," she said. "I remember reading about him a few times, but it never occured to me that he would still be alive."  
  
"Well, he is. He more or less retired from the public eye when Cora was born, though, so that may be why you thought he wasn't around anymore. His wife, Professor Nay, continued teaching at Hogwarts until nineteen seventy-nine. She's about nine years older than Professor McGonagall."  
  
"What did she teach?"  
  
"Defense Against the Dark Arts, and she was the head of Slytherin house."  
  
"Armando Dippet and Indira Nay," Hermione said, committing the names to memory. "All right, then. I'll make sure they have the best seats in the house." She glanced down at the potion. "It's done, Professor."  
  
"Thank you, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor. Now get to Charms before you're late and lose those five points."  
  
Hermione smiled at him, picked up her bookbag, and headed for the door. Snape watched her go, and he felt a smile of his own forming on his lips. Dumbledore was right. History was indeed repeating itself. He doubted if his relationship with Hermione would ever reach friend status, as it had with Gabriel, but that wasn't the point. The idea was to get along with her for the greater good, and he felt that was coming along quite nicely.  
  
~~~  
  
A/N: Yes, I'm a Dippet fan. The only reason he died in 'Obsessions' was because he had to in order for that story to work. ^_^ But anyway, I need some feedback on Snape and Hermione, mainly whether or not you think they're believable. Thanks for reading and have a good day. 


	6. In which Neville amazes everyone

Hermione wasn't late to Charms, but it was close. "About time," Harry whispered as she took her seat between him and Dean Thomas. "Where have you been?"  
  
"I had to talk to Professor Snape about the play," she replied, "and I ended up making some Deflating Draught."  
  
"Deflating Draught?" Dean said. "What are you, Snape's little lackey?"  
  
"'Little lackey'?" Hermione repeated in an injured tone of voice. "Nice use of alliterations, Dean, but I am no one's lackey."  
  
Dean immediately felt sorry for what he said. "Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean it like that. It just came out that way. What I mean is... well, you see..." He couldn't find the words to express what he was feeling, and gave up.  
  
"You're spending a lot of time with Professor Snape," Harry said.  
  
Dean nodded. "Yeah. That's what I meant."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Believe me, it's not because I want to, although I have to admit that he's been a lot nicer since we started working on Macbeth."  
  
"Not to Neville," Dean grumbled. In Potions yesterday, Neville accidently added too much of an ingredient, and it exploded. Gryffindor had twenty points taken off, and Neville received a detention. "You'd think that would change; he did, after all, make Neville Macbeth."  
  
"Actually, I made Neville Macbeth," Hermione said. "Professor Snape wasn't there when he read, and it was my call. He hasn't even heard Neville yet, but after the reading tonight, I think his attitude toward Neville will change."  
  
Harry was about to say something, but stopped when Professor Flitwick stood up on the pile of books behind his desk and asked for their attention. "Good morning, everyone," the tiny Charms instructor said. "Today, we're going to be starting our unit on the Fidelius Charm. This is a very complex and powerful charm, and it will take us several days to cover it. Please open your textbooks to page two forty-four and read to page two fifty-six."  
  
The students complied, but as she read, Hermione found it difficult to focus on Charms. She'd read about the Fidelius Charm during a bout with insomnia one night several months ago, and was already familiar with the material Flitwick assigned them. Her mind began to wander, and it eventually came to rest on the conversation she'd just had with Harry and Dean. So, her friends thought she was spending a lot of time with Snape. She didn't know why they were so concerned. She was the director of the school play, and he was the assistant director. Of course they would be spending a lot of time together. They had to in order for the play to work. And making the potion - that was just doing a favor. She owed him for what he told her about Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall. He didn't have to tell her, but he did. She didn't have to make the potion, but she did. They were even.  
  
Hermione's thoughts drifted to the conversation she had with Snape when they were making Deflating Draught. What she told Harry and Dean wasn't exactly the truth. Spending her free time mixing potions with Professor Snape wasn't her idea of a good time, but she had to admit that the experience was a lot more enjoyable than she thought it would be. Shakespeare brought out his good side; up until then, it was thought that Snape's two sides were bad and worse. She recalled the two moments while making the potions where their hands had touched, and she felt her cheeks growing warm. Since when did a chance brushing of skin produce such a reaction?  
  
~~~  
  
After classes that day ended, Hermione hurried over to the Potions classroom for the all-call. She managed to beat everyone there except Snape, but that was a given; it was, after all, his room. "I've been handing out scripts all day," she informed him as she came in. "I'm almost sure that I've gotten everyone. You and I each have our own scripts, and then there'll be a third we both share that will have all the blocking, notes, and what not."  
  
Snape nodded in understanding. "Well done. Very insightful. When can we get started?"  
  
"Everyone should be here in about ten minutes."  
  
"Good. Can you take a look at this, please?"  
  
She walked over to his desk. On it was a script, open to the seventh scene in Act One. Next to it was a scroll with about six inches of writing. "Blocking ideas?" she asked.  
  
"Not really; it's more like notes on the characters," he answered. "I've been doing some thinking on Macbeth and Lady Macbeth, as you can see by that scroll. Could you look it over and see if you agree?"  
  
Hermione never thought Snape would be asking her to approve something of his creation before. "Sure," she said, and began reading. A smile crossed her face, and she moved the paper a little bit closer to her eyes.  
  
Snape was confused. "I don't recall writing anything amusing in there, Miss Granger."  
  
"It's not that," she said. "It's just that you write so small... I can barely see it. It's even smaller than my writing."  
  
"I wouldn't say that," Snape replied. "You should try correcting one of your essays sometime. I'm going to lose my eyesight over you someday."  
  
She didn't reply, but kept smiling and continued to read.  
  
"It mostly centers around the relationship between Macbeth and Lady Macbeth," Snape explained. "I'm having trouble deciding if they really loved each other or if they were just each other's pawns."  
  
"I don't know," Hermione said, and set the scroll down. "That's a good question. I think they did; after all, when they have their first scene together, he calls her 'my dearest love'. And if they don't love each other all through the play, then I think they at least did in the beginning. It could go either way, I suppose. When he finds out that she's dead, he could say 'she should have died hereafter / there would have been time for such a word' like he's really heartbroken and he's sad that he can't mourn her now or like he doesn't have time for this and her death is just a bee in his bonnet."  
  
"You said this was the speech Longbottom delivered in his audition. How did he read it?"  
  
Hermione paused before answering to remember how Neville had read. "He read it like he was sad."  
  
"Then we'll try it like that for now and see what we can do with it."  
  
~~~  
  
By three ten, the entire cast was assembled in the Potions classroom. Everyone had a script, and they were waiting for Hermione's instructions. "Okay, everyone," Hermione said upon seeing that they were ready. "We're going to try to get through the entire play once. Don't worry about correct pronunciations or phrasing. We'll work on that during scene rehearsals and individual sessions. Just keep reading, and we'll only stop you if it's absolutely necessary. Any questions?"  
  
No one said anything.  
  
"Okay, then," said Hermione. "First witch, go."  
  
"When shall we three meet again?" Lisa Turpin read. "In thunder, lightning, or in rain?"  
  
"When the hurlyburly's done, when the battle's lost and won," said Lavender Brown.  
  
"That will be ere the set of sun," read Tracey Davis.  
  
Hermione made random notes on her script as her fellow students read through the lines, showing them to Snape every once in a while. He, too, was taking notes, and when they agreed on something, one of them would write it down in the shared script. She was focused more on working with the assistant director than listening to the reading - it was, after all, more for them than her - but she did keep an ear out for when the character of Macbeth entered the story. She wanted to prove to Snape that her choice for Macbeth was the best one.  
  
A few minutes later, the time was almost at hand. Draco Malfoy, as Banquo, had delivered his speeches with only minor errors. Neville's first two lines were short and rather easy, neither making nor breaking the role, but his first speech was coming up fast, and that was when everyone would see. Hermione was getting shivers up her spine from excitement. She couldn't wait to see Snape's reaction.  
  
"Though shalt get kings, though thou be none," Tracey read. "So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!"  
  
"Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!" said Lisa.  
  
Hermione had to bite the inside of her lip to keep herself from smiling. They were in for a surprise... assuming, of course, that Neville didn't let her down. She didn't think he would.  
  
"Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more: by Sinel's death I know that I am Thane of Glamis; but how of Cawdor?" Neville said. "The Thane of Cawdor lives, a prosperous gentleman; and to be king stands not within the prospect of belief, no more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence you owe this strange intelligence? Or why upon this blasted heath you stop our way with such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you."  
  
Silence.  
  
Neville glanced around the room nervously. Everyone except Hermione was staring at him with dumbfounded looks on their faces. His heart sank. Had he really read that horribly? So much for Hermione's notion that he could pull off Macbeth.  
  
"Banquo, that's your cue," Hermione said.  
  
Draco opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.  
  
"Come on, Banquo," said Hermione. "Let's go."  
  
"Merlin's beard, Neville, where on earth did you learn to read like that?" Draco exclaimed.  
  
"That's not the line," said Hermione.  
  
Neville covered his face with his hands. "I'm sorry, Hermione! I tried!"  
  
"Stop breaking character!" Hermione said.  
  
"Why didn't you tell us you were such a good reader?" asked Susan Bones.  
  
Neville dropped his hands. "I was good?"  
  
Everyone nodded.  
  
"Yeah, Neville, you were very good," Hermione said. "I told you. Now, Banquo, line: The earth hath bubbles..."  
  
"The earth hath bubbles as the water has, and these are of them," Draco said quickly. Slowing down, he finished the line. "Whither are they vanished?"  
  
Hermione felt a hand gripping her arm. "Miss Granger," Snape whispered, "out in the hall. Now."  
  
"Keep going, everyone," Hermione said as she and Snape left the room. Once they were outside, she asked, "Is something wrong, Professor?"  
  
Snape was absolutely blown away, and it showed. His eyes were wide, his brow was wrinkled, and he was practically gasping for air. He almost looked scared. "How could I have doubted you?"  
  
She smiled at him. "An understandable error, Professor."  
  
"Longbottom's amazing," Snape said. "I've heard some good reading before, but he is by far the best. If he gets over that little confidence problem of his, then those skills of his are going to take him places."  
  
"You really think so?"  
  
He nodded. "I know so." A rare smile crossed his face, and it was happy, which was even rarer. "Julius Caesar was good, but this is going to blow it out of the water."  
  
~~~  
  
"Hey, Neville!" Harry called as the students were leaving two hours later after the read-through was done.  
  
Neville was halfway to the door when Harry called out his name. He stopped and turned around. "Yeah?"  
  
Harry, Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Parvati dropped to their knees, bowed, and said in unison, "We are not worthy!" 


	7. In which suspicions mount

One morning a week later, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley woke up early to go to Quidditch practice, and as they passed the entrance hall on their way out to the pitch, they heard voices. Curious as to who else would be awake at this ungodly hour, they moved in for a closer look. Four people could be seen standing at the bottom of the stairs. The boys recognized two of them: Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall. They had never seen the other two before. One of them was a handsome, clean-shaven man probably about Dumbledore's age, but looked younger because he had no beard. The other looked to be a few years older than Minerva, with deeply tanned skin, dark hair in a braid that hung halfway down her back, and fierce green eyes. All four of them looked sad. Harry and Ron didn't know about the other two, but sadness was not an emotion often seen in Hogwarts's headmaster and deputy headmistress.  
  
Dumbledore was the first to speak. "Armando, Indira, it's good to see you again, although I wish it was under different circumstances."  
  
Harry put his hand on Ron's arm to get his attention, then whispered, "Ron - that's Armando Dippet!"  
  
"How do you know?" Ron whispered back.  
  
"I recognize him," Harry answered. He had seen Armando Dippet once before, five years ago, when Tom Riddle's diary provided him with a window to June thirteenth, 1945. Dippet had been much younger then, of course, but he was still recognizable.  
  
"Who's the woman?" Ron asked.  
  
Harry closed his eyes to bring back images of what he had seen that day. He remembered standing next to Tom Riddle as nothing more than a shadow, an observer of someone's memory. Four faculty members were walking up the stairs, holding a stretcher with a sheet over the body on it. He imagined the strange woman before them as fifty years younger, then looked at the faces of the people in his memory. The images matched. He opened his eyes and looked at Ron. "I don't know, but she used to be a teacher here."  
  
Ron didn't ask how he knew.  
  
Dippet spoke next. "It's good to see you, too, Albus, Minerva." Indira nodded in agreement.  
  
"The obvious aside, how are you?" Minerva asked.  
  
Dippet put his arm around Indira and said, "We're surviving. You?"  
  
Dumbledore glanced up before answering. "It hasn't been easy, but I know we can make it through this."  
  
Harry and Ron resumed their journey out to the pitch before they could be seen. "I think he knew we were there," Harry commented when they were a safe distance away.  
  
Ron nodded. "Yeah, I think you're right." He paused, then scratched his forehead and said, "Did I miss something? What's the deal with Dumbledore and McGonagall?"  
  
Harry had gotten over the initial shock of finding out that the headmaster and deputy headmistress were married, and in doing so, he'd forgotten that Ron didn't know. Apparently, Hermione hadn't told him. "You ready for this?" he said. "They're married."  
  
Ron nearly dropped his broomstick. "Married?" he repeated. "But... when did you find out?"  
  
"Last week, when Hermione posted the cast list," Harry answered. "You remember that Transfiguration classes were cancelled that day."  
  
"Of course I remember."  
  
"Anyway, Hermione suggested that I use the time to study my lines, and asked if she knew why Transfiguration was cancelled. I didn't really expect her to know, but... she did. She said that Dumbledore and McGonagall are married and that their son was killed in an earthquake in Japan two weeks ago."  
  
"That's horrible," Ron said in a concerned tone of voice.  
  
"Yeah, I know," Harry said with a nod. "But there's still something I don't understand."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Armando Dippet. What is he doing here?"  
  
"Let's ask Hermione later," Ron suggested. "She seems to know a lot more than we do."  
  
~~~  
  
Ron and Harry didn't catch up to Hermione until ten minutes before Charms started. She was talking to Crabbe and Goyle, of all people, just outside the Great Hall. "I want you two to master the flame-freezing charm," she was telling them, "and Crabbe, make sure you know a good extinguishing spell. We've got fire as a prop in the scene where you kill kill Banquo, and I don't want anyone getting hurt."  
  
Both of them nodded. "Okay," they chorused.  
  
She smiled at them. "Good. I'll track down Terry, Draco, and Colin and tell them that they need to know how to handle the fire as well."  
  
Crabbe and Goyle said good-bye and continued on their way to Charms. Hermione then noticed Harry and Ron. "Hi, you two," she said. "What's up?"  
  
"Hey, Hermione, you'll never guess who's here," Ron said.  
  
"Armando Dippet," said Harry.  
  
Hermione's eyes lit up. "Armando Dippet?" she repeated. "Where? I need to talk to him. Is it just him, or is there a woman with him, too?"  
  
Harry and Ron blinked, then looked at each other. Harry looked at Hermione and said, "Okay, you really know a lot more than we do."  
  
"I'll explain, but it'll have to be as we walk, or we'll be late to class," she said.  
  
The boys accepted, and they began walking. "How much do you know about Dippet and why he's here, anyway?" Harry inquired.  
  
"Enough," was her answer. "The woman with him should be Indira Nay."  
  
"Dumbledore called her Indira," Ron said. "It's not like that's a common name, so you're probably right."  
  
Hermione continued. "Dumbledore and McGonagall are married, as are Dippet and Nay. Dippet and Nay's daughter is - well, was married to Dumbledore and McGonagall's son. They were killed in an earthquake two weeks ago. Anything else?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Yeah. How do you know?"  
  
"Professor Snape told me. He was good friends with Gabriel Dumbledore. I think they were in Julius Caesar together. Anyway, Dippet and Nay are Shakespeare fans, and Professor Dumbledore wanted us to save them seats for Macbeth. That's why I want to talk to Dippet; you know, just get to know him, tell him what's going on, things like that."  
  
Ron and Harry looked at each other again. Ron spoke for both of them. "When did you become so tight with Snape?"  
  
"When he became the assistant director," Hermione answered with a hint of irritation to her voice. "I really have no choice but to spend time with him. The man knows Shakespeare, and believe it or not, deep down inside, he's really not that bad."  
  
She sped up her pace, and Harry and Ron fell back. Once they were certain she was out of earshot, Ron turned to Harry and said, "What's with her?"  
  
"Probably stress," Harry guessed. "She hasn't backed off school at all; in fact, she's taken on more. Plus, there's the play. I know she likes it, but there's so much work involved that it's insane. I hope she doesn't burn out."  
  
"Besides that, I mean," Ron said. "When did she start liking Snape so much?"  
  
Harry thought for a moment, then said, "I think a more appropriate question would be to ask when he started liking her so much."  
  
~~~  
  
"Let me get this straight," Neville Longbottom said at rehearsal in the Potions classroom for Act One, Scene Five. He glanced at Ginny Weasley, then at Hermione and Snape, and then back at Ginny. "I have to kiss her?"  
  
Hermione nodded. "Yes. Three times in this scene, actually: right after 'greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter', right after 'the future in the instant', and right after 'we will speak further.'" She glanced at Snape. "Were we going to close the scene with them kissing, too?"  
  
"I was thinking more in terms of an embrace, but I suppose we could throw in another kiss as well," Snape said. "That's the good thing about Shakespeare. Everything is always so open-ended."  
  
Neville and Ginny looked at each other. Both of them had uncomfortable expressions on their faces. They were friends, of course, but the idea of becoming friendlier wasn't too appealing. "I don't think Parvati will be too keen on that," Ginny said.  
  
"Oh, she'll understand," said Hermione. "Besides, it's not like you mean it. It's just acting. You're not Neville and Ginny anymore. You're Macbeth and Lady Macbeth. It's called 'getting into character'. Don't worry; we won't make you kiss each other just yet, but be aware that you will have to eventually." She looked at Snape. "Should we run through the blocking again?"  
  
"No, I think that's enough for tonight," said Snape. He turned his gaze to Neville and Ginny. "You are excused. Remember to study your lines."  
  
Neville and Ginny said good-bye to the two of them and left the room. Once they were gone, Hermione let out a long sigh and leaned back in her chair. "How are you doing?" she asked the assistant director.  
  
"All right," he answered. "You?"  
  
"All right."  
  
Snape stared at the door for a few moments, then looked at Hermione and said, "They're good."  
  
She nodded. "They're very good. They surprised me. Before auditions, I had no idea either one of them could act."  
  
"Yes, especially Longbottom," he agreed. He paused, then said, "I'm sorry for doubting your judgement about him."  
  
"Professor, that's probably the fiftieth time you've apologized to me since hearing him read," Hermione said. "I understand. It's okay."  
  
"I don't do that often, Miss Granger. Take advantage of it."  
  
She felt a smile creep across her face. "You're a control freak, you know that?"  
  
Snape blinked. "A what?"  
  
"A control freak," she repeated. "You know, a person who-"  
  
"I know what a control freak is," he interrupted, "and I am not a..." He stopped talking, thought for a moment, and said, "Actually, now that you mention it, I think I AM a control freak."  
  
Suddenly, Hermione snapped her fingers, sat up, and said, "Intermission. I've got it. Our Act One will end after the text's Act Three, Scene Three, right after Banquo is murdered. That's a big turning point, and besides, we'll need time to make Draco look like a ghost. Or should we have two intermissions? It's a long play, and we're not cutting anything..." She looked him in the eyes. "What do you think?"  
  
"I think one intermission will be enough, and that's a good place to put it," he replied. He peered closely at her. "You look exhausted."  
  
"I feel exhausted," was her reply.  
  
"What time did you go to bed last night?"  
  
She snorted. "Last night? Try this morning."  
  
"All right, what time did you go to bed this morning?"  
  
"About two thirty."  
  
"And when did you get up?"  
  
"Six," she answered. "Between schoolwork, the play, and studying... it's hard, but I love it. I wouldn't have it any other way."  
  
"You say that now, but soon enough, it'll catch up with you," Snape said. "I would hate to see you burn out."  
  
Hermione smiled. "Well, you don't look so energetic yourself, Professor Snape." She thought for a moment, then spoke one of Lady Macbeth's lines. "You lack the season of all natures, sleep."  
  
"Come, we'll to sleep," he replied, smiling a little himself. "My strange and self-abuse is the initiate fear that wants hard use. We are yet but young in deed."  
  
"You're good."  
  
"You're not so bad yourself."  
  
A knock on the door to his classroom interrupted their conversation. Snape looked toward the door. "Come in," he called.  
  
The door opened, and in stepped Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and two people Hermione didn't recognize, a man and a woman. "Good evening, Severus," Dumbledore said. He then noticed Hermione. "Miss Granger."  
  
"Hi, Professors," Hermione said. She then realized that being alone in a classroom with Snape probably didn't look too good to the ones that had just entered, and she had to fight to keep her blood from rushing to her cheeks. The fight became even more difficult when she made eye contact with the strange woman and noticed that she was giving her a suspicious look. Her gaze quickly became too intense for Hermione to stand, and she looked away.  
  
"Finishing rehearsal, Miss Granger?" Minerva inquired.  
  
Hermione nodded. "Yes. I was just leaving." To emphasize her statement, she picked up her bookbag and one of the three scripts lying on the table between her and Snape. She then noticed that the woman was now giving Snape the same look she had given her, and couldn't help but wonder what her problem was.  
  
"Convenient that we should run into you now," Dumbledore said. "Armando, Indira, this is Hermione Granger, the young woman I was telling you about, the one who's directing the play. Miss Granger, it is my pleasure to introduce to you Armando Dippet and Indira Nay."  
  
"Pleased to meet you," Hermione said, shaking first Dippet's hand, then Indira's. Dippet seemed friendly enough, but there was something about Indira that creeped her out. Her handshake was warm and strong, but the look in her deep green eyes left chills running up and down her spine. She'd known beforehand that Indira was the former head of Slytherin house, but she never imagined that she would give her that kind of feeling. It wasn't evil, it was just... she almost wanted to say intimidating.  
  
"So, you like Shakespeare?" Indira asked. Her tone of voice bordered on challenging.  
  
"Yes, very much," Hermione answered.  
  
"Did Professor Snape tell you that he was in a production of Julius Caesar during his time as a student?"  
  
"Yes," Snape said.  
  
Indira looked at Snape and arched one of her thin, dark eyebrows. "I asked her, Severus."  
  
Snape fought back a grin. She hadn't changed a bit.  
  
"Yes, ma'am, he has told me," Hermione said. "He was Cassius, and I hear that he performed very well."  
  
Indira nodded. "Yes, he did. He was excellent."  
  
"Thank you, Professor Nay," Snape said.  
  
"I'm not your teacher anymore, Severus," Indira returned. "Indira will do."  
  
Dumbledore whispered something to Minerva, and she nodded. She then made eye contact with Dippet. He shrugged. Minerva glanced at Hermione, blinked, and then turned her gaze back to Dippet. Dippet let out a soft sigh and placed his hand on Indira's arm. She backed off after that, but not before shooting both Hermione and Snape looks of warning.  
  
Hermione suddenly felt about six inches tall. "Excuse me," she said, and left the room.  
  
Once she was gone, all eyes went to Indira. "With all due respect, Prof - Indira, was that really necessary?" Snape asked.  
  
"He's right," Dippet said. "That girl isn't used to you, Indira."  
  
Instead of replying to her husband's comment, Indira looked at Minerva, who had the slightest look of discomfort about her face. "Everything all right, Minerva?"  
  
"I'm fine," Minerva said. "I was just thinking, that's all."  
  
Indira gazed at her out of the corner of her eye for a few moments, and then nodded. "Indeed."  
  
~~~  
  
Twenty minutes later, in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione got an idea for one of the scenes in Act Four, so she grabbed her script and began flipping through it to get to the desired point. As she turned the pages, though, she realized that it wasn't her script; it was Snape's. In her haste to get out of the room and away from the piercing, suspicious gaze of Indira Nay, she must have grabbed the wrong script by mistake. She knew she should get it back to Snape, but the thought of being in the same room as Indira again was enough to make her stay put.  
  
Finally, Hermione reasoned that Dumbledore and the others had probably left by this point and it would be safe to return. The downside, though, was that Snape had probably already left, too, and if he had, it would be nearly impossible to track him down without the aid of another faculty member. Desire to get her own script took precedence over her worries, though, and before she knew it, she was walking through the halls toward the Potions classroom.  
  
She hadn't left a moment too soon. She saw Snape walking in the direction of the Slytherin common room, and called out to him. He stopped and turned around. "I have your script," she said as she walked toward him. "I accidently grabbed it instead of mine."  
  
"Thank you," he said as she handed him his script.  
  
"Is your classroom open? I really need my script."  
  
Snape sighed and reached into his pocket. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he said, mostly to himself. He pulled his hand out. He was holding a key. "Can you get this back to me first thing in the morning?"  
  
"Of course," she said, both shocked and honored that he was entrusting her with the key to his classroom. "Thank you."  
  
"I trust you, Miss Granger."  
  
"I won't let you down, Professor Snape."  
  
"I know. Good night."  
  
Neither one of them moved. Snape noticed a look of discouragement on her face, and he felt a pang of concern. That was not an expression he usually saw on her. "Is something bothering you?" he asked.  
  
Hermione sighed, then frowned. "It's stupid, really," she said. "It's... it's Indira Nay. I thought she would be... well, nicer."  
  
Snape had a feeling that it had something to do with Indira. "She's not a bad person," he assured her. "She just takes some getting used to. She's... well, this isn't exactly the best way to put it, but she can be thought of as an acquired taste."  
  
She almost said that that reminded her of someone else she knew, meaning him, but thought better of it and kept silent.  
  
~~~  
  
Snape wasn't the only one bothered about Indira's treatment of Hermione. As they walked over to Hogsmeade to check into an inn, Armando Dippet finally worked up enough courage to ask his wife why she acted the way she did. "Indira, may I ask you a question?"  
  
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and nodded. "I assume that wasn't the question."  
  
He felt a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "No, it wasn't," he confirmed. "Don't you think you went a little overboard back there?"  
  
"With the girl?" Indira asked. "I know I did."  
  
Dippet felt confused. "But if you did, then why did you do it? You know she's not used to you and your methods."  
  
"I didn't say I did it on purpose, but I can pick up on details that other people can't," she said. "Hermione is a Gryffindor. Severus is a Slytherin. I haven't seen a Gryffindor and a Slytherin so friendly since Severus and Gabriel." Saying her son-in-law's name was painful for her, and it showed in her tone when she reached that point.  
  
He reached for her hand and gripped it tightly. A small smile flickered on her lips for an instant, and she squeezed his hand back. "History is repeating itself, Armando," Indira said.  
  
"What are you saying?" Dippet asked. "That they're just like Severus and Gabriel?"  
  
"No," she said. "They're just like Albus and Minerva." 


	8. In which Remus and Minerva are commissio...

As promised, Hermione got the key back to Snape first thing in the morning. They spent a few minutes discussing the play, and then hurried along to the Great Hall for breakfast, conversing as they went. Several students gave them strange looks, but no one saw their reasons for being together as anything outrageously unusual; they were, after all, the director and assistant director of the school play. Hermione had gotten used to the looks, and they no longer bothered her. What did bother her, though, was Indira Nay. There was nothing inappropriate about her relationship with Snape - up until two weeks ago, she didn't even like him! What was with that woman and her suspicions, anyway?  
  
"Which scenes are we doing today?" Snape asked as they approached the Great Hall.  
  
"A run-through of the text's Act One," Hermione answered. "Tomorrow, I want to meet with the witches, and we'll work on their scenes."  
  
He nodded in approval. "What are we going to do about the fight scenes?"  
  
She cringed. "Oh, right, the fight scenes. I almost forgot about those. Is there anyone here who can choreograph a fight scene?"  
  
Snape thought for a moment, then said, "You could talk to Professor McGonagall. She almost became an Auror after graduating from Hogwarts, and she's quite adept at combat."  
  
"'Almost'?" Hermione repeated. "What did she do instead?"  
  
"Played professional Quidditch," was his reply. "And this might surprise you, but Professor Lupin isn't bad at all. There's not a lot of fighting in Julius Caesar, but when there was fighting, he was the one who did the choreography, and it was very good."  
  
"Okay. I'll be sure to talk to both of them sometime today."  
  
"Tell you what. You talk to Professor Lupin, and I'll talk to Professor McGonagall. I'll be going that way."  
  
Hermione was surprised by this gesture. "All right," she said. "Thank you. See you in Potions."  
  
~~~  
  
"I have to admit, up until then, I hated you," Minerva McGonagall confessed to Indira Nay as the two women wandered the halls of Hogwarts before classes began. The two were discussing an incident that took place shortly after Minerva's graduation that more or less forced them to cooperate; if they hadn't, both Albus Dumbledore and Armando Dippet would have died a most unpleasant death. "Albus was always telling me that you really were a good person, but it took quite some time before I was convinced."  
  
  
  
The slightest hint of a smile appeared at the corners of Indira's mouth. "You weren't the only one," she said. "Do you have any idea how many people didn't believe Cora was my daughter?"  
  
"No, but I can imagine. She didn't seem like you at all - at first, anyway." Minerva looked at Indira and said, "Do you think we would have believed it back in 1945 if someone said our lives were going to cross like they have?"  
  
Indira shook her head. "Probably not, but if someone told me what was going to happen in 1945, I would never have believed them. No one saw that year coming."  
  
"You've got that right." Minerva then noticed someone walking toward them. "Severus?"  
  
"Minerva, Indira," Snape said, nodding and then falling into stride beside them.  
  
"Is everything all right?" Minerva asked.  
  
"Oh, yes," Snape returned. "I just needed to speak with you. It concerns the play."  
  
"I'm listening."  
  
"How would you feel about choreographing some fight scenes?"  
  
Minerva stopped walking. Snape and Indira stopped after noticing that she had. "Fight scenes?" she repeated. "You want me to choreograph a fight scene?"  
  
Snape nodded. "Yes. Would you be willing?"  
  
"I'm honored, but I don't know if I'm the most qualified," Minerva said. "Have you spoken to Remus yet?"  
  
"Miss Granger will be doing that when she has his class today."  
  
"Remus Lupin?" Indira asked.  
  
Both Snape and Minerva nodded. "He's the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor," Minerva explained.  
  
"Remus Lupin is the Defense Against the Dark Arts," Indira said thoughtfully. She blinked, then shrugged. "Ironic."  
  
"You should go by the class sometime," Snape suggested. "I'm sure he'd like to see you."  
  
"I think I will."  
  
~~~  
  
Hermione didn't have to wait long to speak to Lupin. The seventh-year Gryffindors had Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Ravenclaws right after Charms. Hermione, Ron, and Harry chatted amongst themselves as they walked through the school toward their next class, and for the first time in days, Hermione began to feel a little bit relaxed. The play was going well, she was getting along with the Slytherins, and if he agreed, they would have someone to choreograph the fight scenes. She liked Lupin a lot; he was one of her favorite teachers, and it would be interesting to see what he came up with for the play. It would also be interesting to see how he worked with Snape. She'd seen how they treated each other during her third year, and it wasn't pretty. However, one of the reasons Lupin had returned as a teacher was because Snape volunteered to make wolfsbane potion for him every month, which wouldn't stop the werewolf transformation, but would prevent him from being a danger to anyone. She didn't know why, but all of a sudden, he and Snape weren't as hostile toward each other anymore. Maybe Snape was on a nice streak.  
  
Her good mood vanished, though, when they opened the door to the DADA classroom. Inside was Indira Nay herself, deep in conversation with Lupin. She fought back a gasp and got away from the door as fast as she could.  
  
Ron and Harry exchanged a look. Ron asked the question on both of their minds. "Hermione, are you all right?"  
  
Hermione pointed her finger at the door. "That woman is Satan."  
  
Harry glanced back inside the room. "The one talking to Professor Lupin?"  
  
Hermione nodded.  
  
"She was the one we saw yesterday morning," Ron commented. "Indira Nay, right?"  
  
Hermione nodded again. "Not in the legions of horrid hell can come a devil more damned in evils to top Indira Nay."  
  
"Hey, that was one of my lines... kind of," Harry said. "Act Four, Scene Three." He paused, then said, "Oh, come on, she can't be that bad."  
  
"Trust me," Hermione replied. "She can, and she is."  
  
"What's gotten into her?" Ron whispered to Harry.  
  
Harry shrugged. "Beats me."  
  
"Could you two find out why she's here?" Hermione asked. "Please?"  
  
"Oh, why not?" Harry said. "Come on, Ron."  
  
They went inside the classroom and approached the front desk. Lupin smiled warmly at them. "Hi, you two," he said. "How's life?"  
  
"Just fine," Ron replied.  
  
"And how's the play coming along?"  
  
"Great," Harry answered.  
  
Indira studied the two boys for a moment, then asked, "Are you two in the play as well?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Uh-huh. He's Lennox, and I'm Macduff."  
  
"Who is Macbeth?"  
  
"Neville Longbottom," Ron said. "Do you know him?"  
  
"I knew his parents," was her soft reply, and that was all she need say.  
  
"Ron, Harry, this is Indira Nay," Lupin said. "She was the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor back when your parents and I were students. She'll be teaching the class today. Indira, these are two of my top students, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley."  
  
Harry and Ron didn't see why Hermione was so afraid of Indira. She didn't seem bad at all. The way Hermione was going off, one would think Indira was worse than Filch. "Great," Harry said. "Nice to meet you, Professor Nay."  
  
"Likewise, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley," she returned.  
  
The boys excused themselves and went back out into the hall. Hermione was waiting for them. "Well?"  
  
"Guest instructor," Ron said.  
  
Hermione looked like she had just failed a test. "Oh, no," she groaned, and leaned against the wall for support. "O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart cannot conceive nor name thee!"  
  
"Hey, you said one of my lines again," Harry noticed.  
  
Ron nudged Harry with his elbow and asked, "When every other thing she says is an allusion to Macbeth, is that a sign that she's working too hard?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'd say so."  
  
At that moment, they were joined by Neville, Seamus, and the Patil twins. "What's going on?" Padma asked.  
  
"Satan is teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts today," Hermione answered.  
  
Seamus blinked, scratched his head, and said, "I thought you were starting to like Snape, Hermione."  
  
"No, not Snape!" Hermione said. "Indira Nay."  
  
"Who?" Neville and Seamus asked in unison.  
  
"Indira Nay," Hermione said again. "She is Satan."  
  
Harry was starting to become fed up with the whole Satan thing. "She's not Satan," he said.  
  
"Hmph," Hermione said, and folded her arms across her chest. "You didn't see her interrogating me yesterday. And I bet she didn't give you a Death Stare, either."  
  
"'Death Stare'?" Parvati repeated.  
  
Hermione nodded. "Yeah. Her Death Stare makes Snape's look like Seamus when he puffs up his cheeks and wiggles his ears."  
  
Seamus turned slightly red, and Harry, Ron, Neville, Parvati, and Padma chuckled.  
  
Hermione sighed and sank down to the floor. "I'm doomed."  
  
"Oh!" Padma exclaimed, and reached into her bookbag. "I saw Snape on the way over here, and he asked me to give you this." She pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Hermione. "Here."  
  
Hermione thanked her and unfolded the paper. It was a note. "McGonagall has agreed to help with the choreography," it read. "Counting on you to talk to Lupin. And don't worry about Nay. No one understands her, not even Dippet. S.S."  
  
"What does it say?" asked Ron.  
  
Hermione folded it back up and slipped it into her pocket. "Play stuff," she answered. She stood up, tossed her head, and looked at the door to the classroom. Armed with new motivation, she said, "They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly, but, bear-like, I must fight the course." She smiled at her friends, opened the door, and went inside.  
  
"Hey," Neville said, "that was one of my lines."  
  
~~~  
  
There were still a few minutes left before class officially began, and Hermione figured that would be enough time to speak to Lupin about the play. Instead of taking her seat, she walked straight up to the front desk and did her best to not look at Indira. "Hi, Professor," she said. "Can I ask you a question?"  
  
Lupin smiled at her. "Of course." He remembered Indira, and said, "Miss Granger, this is-"  
  
"We've met," Hermione interrupted, giving Indira a fake smile.  
  
The corners of Indira's mouth twitched upward into what could almost be called a grin.  
  
Hermione gave Lupin her full attention and asked her question. "It's about the play," she said. "We need someone to choreograph the fight scenes, and Professor Snape said you were pretty good at that sort of thing. Would you be willing to help us out?"  
  
"Of course," Lupin said without hesitation. "It would be my pleasure. Do you know who else you should ask? Professor McGonagall."  
  
"Professor Snape has already spoken to her," Hermione said. "She's agreed."  
  
"A student director and fight scenes choreographed by Remus Lupin and Minerva McGonagall," Indira said. She and Hermione made eye contact. "This should be interesting."  
  
"Yes, Professor Nay," Hermione said. "It will be quite interesting." 


	9. In which there is a problem and a soluti...

A/N: Well, it looks like you all hate Indira, which means I accomplished my goal. ^_^ And yes, as a matter of fact, there IS a back story... right now, it's a little over three chapters long, and it'll go up after I finish 'Obsessions'. Also, I didn't really 'try' to make the last chapter funny; it just sort of turned out that way. This chapter's pretty funny, too. Enjoy!  
  
~~~  
  
"Okay, witches, are you ready?" Hermione asked Lisa Turpin, Lavender Brown, and Tracey Davis at rehearsal the next afternoon in the Potions classroom. "Act One, Scene Three. Lisa, you're up."  
  
"Where hast thou been, sister?" Lisa read.  
  
"Killing swine," Lavender said.  
  
"Sister, where thou?" asked Tracey.  
  
While Lisa launched into her short speech, Snape leaned over and whispered to Hermione, "What are we going to do about making them disappear?"  
  
She thought for a moment, then said, "Good question. Could we work something out with Floo powder?"  
  
"I don't think so," he said. "They wouldn't be able to say where they wanted to go, and there's no telling where they could end up."  
  
Hermione nodded. "You're right. Let's give it some time. I'm sure we'll think of something."  
  
"The weird sisters, hand in hand, posters of the sea and land, thus do go about, about: thrice to thine and thrice to mine and thrice again to make up nine. Peace! the charm's wound up," the three girls read in unison.  
  
"And along come Macbeth and Banquo," Snape said. "Good job, ladies. What's your next scene?"  
  
"Act Three, Scene Five," Hermione answered, "but the only ones that speak in there are the first witch and Hecate; mostly Hecate. Let's skip that for now and jump ahead to Act Four, Scene One."  
  
"Woo hoo, more singing," Lavender said, and she, Lisa, and Tracey laughed.  
  
Hermione smiled, and she thought she saw Snape smile a little bit, too. "Okay," she said. "This scene has a lot of potential, but it has to be airtight and done with a lot of energy. We believe in you. First witch, go!"  
  
"Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd," said Lisa.  
  
"Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined," read Lavender.  
  
"Harpier cries 'Tis time, 'tis time," said Tracey.  
  
"Round about the cauldron go; in the poison'd entrails throw," said Lisa. "Toad, that under cold stone days and nights has thirty-one swelter'd venom sleeping got, boil thou first i' the charmed pot."  
  
"Double, double, toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble," the three chorused.  
  
Lavender's speech was next. "Fillet of a fenny snake, in the cauldron boil and bake; eye of newt and toe of frog, wool of bat and tongue of dog, adder's fork and blind-worm's sting, lizard's leg and owlet's wing, for a charm of powerful trouble, like a hell-broth boil and bubble."  
  
"Double, double, toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble."  
  
After the unison line, Tracey launched into her speech. "Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, witches' mummy, maw and gulf of the ravin'd salt-sea shark, root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark, liver of blaspheming Jew, gall of goat, and slips of yew silver'd in the moon's eclipse, nose of Turk and Tartar's lips, finger of birth-strangled babe ditch-deliver'd by a drab, make the gruel thick and slab: add thereto a tiger's chaudron, for the ingredients of our cauldron."  
  
"Double, double, toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble."  
  
"Cool it with a baboon's blood," Lavender read, "then the charm is firm and good."  
  
"Excellent," Hermione said. "Nice volume and energy. When we get off-book, we'll throw in some dancing." She noticed that Tracey looked a little uneasy. "Trace, you all right?"  
  
Tracey pointed at her script and said, "Some of this stuff is really gruesome. I mean, that 'finger of birth-strangled babe ditch-deliver'd by a drab' line? Yikes."  
  
"And baboon blood?" Lisa added. "Professor Snape, do you know of any potions that actually use these ingredients?"  
  
"Well, dragon scales are a fairly common ingredient," Snape said, "and most of the things the second witch lists are used quite often. Wolfsbane Potion uses crushed tooth of wolf, but I've never run across anything that would need, say, 'liver of blaspheming Jew'."  
  
"And don't forget, you're more or less singing this," Hermione reminded them. "One of the reasons you three got these parts is all of you can sing."  
  
Lavender held up her hands. "Macbeth: The Musical!" she exclaimed, and all of them burst into laughter, even Snape.  
  
"Maybe next time," Hermione said after the laughter died down. "We need Hecate, Macbeth, and the Apparitions to do the rest of this scene in any way that makes sense, so I guess we're done for today. Good job, you three. Study your lines. I want to be off-book in two weeks. Sing them on the way to class or something."  
  
Tracey chuckled. "I'm sure that would be an interesting sight."  
  
"Hey, whatever works," said Hermione. "Anyway, like I said, good job, and we'll see you next time."  
  
The girls left singing their lines. Hermione smiled and shook her head. When they were gone, she looked at Snape and said, "Do you think they'll actually do it?"  
  
"I wouldn't be surprised." He thought for a moment, then said, "I wonder what kind of potion that would make?"  
  
Hermione laughed. "Only you would consider trying out potions in Shakespeare, Professor Snape."  
  
He shrugged. "And why not? It doesn't sound any more difficult than Wolfsbane."  
  
"I thought Wolfsbane was extremely difficult."  
  
"It is," he replied. "After Wolfsbane, no potion is a challenge." A twinkle appeared in his eye. "Would you like to learn how to make it?"  
  
"Wolfsbane?" she said in disbelief.  
  
He nodded. "There's a full moon in two weeks. I could use an extra pair of hands, and nothing else I come up with seems to challenge you."  
  
"I'd love to," she said, blown away by the fact that he was asking her to help with something as difficult as Wolfsbane Potion.  
  
"Excellent. And if you come up with any ideas as to how we're going to make the witches disappear, let me know at once. I don't care if it's the middle of the night, just tell me."  
  
She nodded. "You got it."  
  
~~~  
  
Hermione was still pondering the problem of how to make the witches vanish two hours later in the Gryffindor common room, where she was trying to do some Arithmancy homework. It wasn't too difficult, and she found herself focusing more on the play than the work. She glanced around the room at her peers, hoping for some inspiration. In one corner, Neville and Ginny were reading what sounded like Act Two, Scene Two. A smile worked its way across her lips. It was good to know they were so dedicated. In the middle of the room, Harry, Ron, Dean, Seamus, and the Creevey boys were sitting in a circle talking about random things. A few first-years were doing Transfiguration homework at a table. Parvati and Lavender were playing chess. All in all, it was a pleasant sight, but not particularly inspirational. She gave up and went back to her homework.  
  
Dean stole a glance at Hermione out of the corner of his eye, then said to the rest of the boys, "Is she working on the play again?"  
  
"No," Colin answered. "Arithmancy."  
  
"Arithmancy," Harry said, and shrugged. "Fun."  
  
"Actually, it's not that bad," Seamus said. He started taking Arithmancy during their sixth year and rather enjoyed it. "Better than Divination."  
  
"Anything's better than Divination, even Potions," grumbled Dennis, and the rest of them agreed. The only students in the entire school that actually liked Divination were Parvati and Lavender.  
  
Suddenly, Ron snapped his fingers. "Oh, did I tell you guys that Percy and Penny are finally getting married?"  
  
"No, you didn't," said Harry. "Wow. I figured they would someday, but still... wow."  
  
"Yeah, tell me about it," Ron said. Then he chuckled. "Mum's giving Bill and Charlie a horrible time since both of them are still single. They haven't set a date yet, but it'll probably be sometime next summer. Get this: they want to get married in Canada."  
  
"Canada?" Dean asked.  
  
Ron nodded. "That was my reaction. Percy had to go to Toronto for a few weeks last year, and I guess they just liked it there."  
  
"Wouldn't it be hard to get there?" Colin asked.  
  
"I don't think so," Ron said. "I'm sure Dad could arrange for the use of a Portkey, and if not, there's always-"  
  
"PORTKEY!!!" Hermione suddenly yelled. She jumped up and slammed her Arithmancy book shut. "That's it!"  
  
All activity in the room stopped, and everyone looked at her. "What's it?" asked Ginny.  
  
"Portkey!" Hermione said. "That's what we can use to make the witches vanish!"  
  
Lavender was the only one in the room who knew what she was talking about. "Hey, that's good!" she said.  
  
Hermione nodded and made a dash for the exit. "I know. Thanks, Ron!"  
  
Ron watched her go, then blinked. "Uh... you're welcome."  
  
~~~  
  
Hermione decided that the best place to start her search for Snape would be the Potions classroom, and she sprinted through the school in that direction. On the way, she passed Draco Malfoy, who was walking toward the entrance to the Slytherin tower, and she skidded to a halt. "Draco!" she said. "You seen Snape?"  
  
Draco shook his head. "Not since Potions this afternoon. Why?"  
  
"You're going to Slytherin, right?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"If Snape's there, will you tell him to meet me at the Potions classroom?" she asked. "It's really important."  
  
He was a little surprised, but agreed.  
  
She smiled, thanked him, and took off running again. Draco shrugged and continued on his way, wondering what could possibly be on that crazy Gryffindor's mind this time.  
  
~~~  
  
It didn't take Hermione long to get to the Potions classroom. It was kind of funny, the way one never realized how fast one could run until one was full of adrenaline. She couldn't wait to tell Snape about the Portkey idea. Now, if only he was in the room.  
  
She knocked on the door, a little louder than she intended. "Enter," came Snape's voice.  
  
She smiled and opened the door. "Professor Snape, I jus-" She stopped when she saw who was in the room with him: Armando Dippet. The two of them were sitting at a table in the front row. "You!" she exclaimed, and looked around nervously. "Where is she?"  
  
"Indira," Snape explained to Dippet.  
  
Dippet smiled knowingly. "I figured as much. She's with Professor Lupin. They've been discussing their subject."  
  
She was unable to conceal her relief. "That's good to hear," she replied, then realized that probably wasn't the best thing to say. "Sorry."  
  
"Don't worry about it," Dippet said. "Just give it time. You two might even end up liking each other."  
  
"With all due respect, sir, don't count on it."  
  
"What was it you wanted to tell me?" Snape asked.  
  
"Oh!" Hermione said, remembering her reason for going there in the first place. "I know how we can make the witches vanish!"  
  
Snape leapt to his feet. "You do? How?"  
  
"The cauldron," she said. "We can turn it into a Portkey that will transport them backstage."  
  
Snape's eyes grew wide. "Hermione Granger, if you weren't a student and I wasn't a teacher, I swear I would kiss you." He paused, unable to believe he just said that. Recovering his senses, he said, "Sorry; that just slipped out. Anyway, that idea is brilliant. It really is."  
  
Hermione smiled. "Thank you."  
  
Dippet looked impressed. "Your ideas never cease to amaze me," he said. "This is going to be good."  
  
She nodded. "I'm sure you'll enjoy it, Professor Dippet."  
  
Dippet turned his attention to Snape and said, "Well, Severus, if that's all, then I guess I should be going. We will see you on New Year's Eve." He smiled at Hermione. "Good luck, Miss Granger. It was nice to meet you."  
  
"It was nice to meet you, too, sir," Hermione returned.  
  
They shook hands, and Dippet excused himself. When he was gone, Hermione turned to Snape and said, "All right, I have to know. How did someone as nice as him end up with Indira Nay?"  
  
"Believe it or not, we were actually discussing that before you came in," Snape said. "I'm really not at liberty to disclose any details, but I can tell you that the chance that her scars will ever fully heal is slim to none."  
  
"So it's not just because of the recent deaths?"  
  
He shook his head. "No, although that hasn't helped. We must not judge her too harshly. She's been through more than we can imagine."  
  
Hermione glanced back at the door briefly. "Are they leaving?"  
  
"Yes. First thing in the morning."  
  
"Do they love each other?"  
  
"Very much."  
  
She wanted to learn more about them as well as find out about Indira's past, but this was neither the time nor the place. "I should probably go," she said. "That Arithmancy homework really needs to get done."  
  
"All right. Thank you for telling me about that Portkey idea. Like I said, it's brilliant."  
  
"Thank you," Hermione said, and walked over to the door. "Good night, Professor Snape."  
  
"Good night, Miss Granger," he returned. When she was gone, he let out a long sigh, propped his elbow up on the table, and rested his forehead in his palm. Accident or not, he still couldn't believe that he said he would kiss her. 


	10. In which Hermione and Severus make Wolfs...

A/N: Attention all HG/SS fans: this chapter is for you. *wink* I'm going out of town for a month next week, which means no updates for quite some time (ha), but I may be able to crank out one more chapter before I leave. Most of it's already in my head; it's just a matter of typing it up. And sorry if Wolfsbane Potion doesn't seem all that difficult - I tried. ^_^ Read. Read NOW!  
  
~~~  
  
A week later, Snape gave Hermione the instructions for making Wolfsbane Potion. Lupin had to drink one gobletfull every night for a week before the full moon for it to have effect. They would make their first batch after rehearsal that night. She had about half an hour before rehearsal, so she decided to pass the time by studying the instructions in the common room. Snape hadn't been kidding; Wolfsbane was even more difficult than Polyjuice Potion, although she wasn't going to tell him that. At any rate, it was far more complicated than anything Snape had her make before, and even though they would be working together, she could tell it wasn't going to be easy.  
  
"Hermione!"  
  
Harry Potter's voice diverted Hermione's attention from the Wolfsbane instructions, and she looked up to see him and Ron walking toward her. "Yeah?" she said.  
  
"What scenes are we rehearsing tonight?" asked Ron.  
  
"All of the text's Act Two," Hermione answered. "You're both in it. This week's schedule is posted outside the Great Hall and outside the Potions classroom." She paused, then said, "You know, maybe I should write schedules for each of the house common rooms, too..."  
  
"When do we have to be off-book?" asked Harry.  
  
"The sooner, the better," she said. "Act One by next week."  
  
"Ginny's already off-book," Ron said, almost proudly. "She and Neville have been studying their lines day and night. And Neville's really close."  
  
Hermione was impressed. "That's great!" Neville was notorious for his poor memory, and that was the only thing she was worried about when she assigned him the part of Macbeth.  
  
"When are we going to start doing the choreography for the fight scenes?" Harry inquired.  
  
"Professor Lupin and Professor McGonagall have already started their part," Hermione said. "They'll let me know when they're ready. Anything else?"  
  
"Yes," said Ron. "Want to play Exploding Snap?"  
  
Hermione hesitated before answering. The play had taken up every second of spare time since auditions, and consequently alienated her from her friends. Part of her wanted to accept, but there was the matter of the Wolfsbane Potion. "I can't," she said. "Sorry. I really have to study this potion."  
  
"What is it?" asked Harry.  
  
"Wolfsbane, for Professor Lupin," she answered. "Professor Snape and I are going to make a batch after rehearsal tonight."  
  
Harry and Ron looked at each other. Neither spoke.  
  
Hermione let out an irritated sigh. "What?"  
  
"Nothing," the two boys mumbled in unison.  
  
"Look, unless you tell me what the problem is, I can't do anything about it."  
  
"There's no problem," Harry said. "Really. Come on, Ron, let's play Exploding Snap. See you at rehearsal, Hermione."  
  
"That's the only place we ever see her anymore," Ron grumbled as they walked away.  
  
Hermione pretended that she didn't hear him and went back to studying the potion. However, she found that it was difficult to concentrate. She had a feeling Harry and Ron were bothered by something more than just all the time she was spending on the play, but she had no idea what it could be. She decided she could wait until later to find out. This potion wasn't going to learn itself.  
  
~~~  
  
Hermione got the answer to her question on the way to rehearsal that night. She left the Gryffindor common room fifteen minutes early and started on her way to the Potions classroom. However, she barely took three steps away from the portrait of the Fat Lady when she heard someone call out her name. She turned around, only to see Ginny Weasley stepping out from behind the portrait. Hermione smiled at her. "Hey, Lady Macbeth," she said. "You want to be early for rehearsal, too?"  
  
"Something like that," Ginny said, falling into stride beside Hermione. "I... uh... I need to tell you something."  
  
"Is it about the play?"  
  
"Kind of; it started with the play, anyway."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Ginny glanced around, making sure there was no one else nearby, and said, "You've probably noticed that Harry and Ron have been acting weird around you lately, right?"  
  
"Good to know I'm not the only one that's noticed," Hermione said. "Do you know why?"  
  
"Well, apparently, they were talking about it a few nights ago, in their dormitory or something, because Neville either overheard or was in on the conversation. Anyway, Neville found out, and he told Parvati, and Parvati told me and asked me to tell you."  
  
"They're mad because I'm spending so much time on the play, is that it?"  
  
Ginny turned slightly red and said, "Not so much the play as the assistant director."  
  
Hermione stopped walking, and Ginny halted as well. "Snape?" she said in disbelief. "They think I'm spending too much time with Snape?"  
  
Ginny covered her face and nodded.  
  
Hermione was starting to get a little more color to her face as well. "That's silly," she said. "Why would they be worried about that?"  
  
Ginny's voice was barely above a whisper, and further muffled by her hands. "They're worried that he might try to take advantage of you."  
  
If their fear was silly, their reason was downright ridiculous, and Hermione said so. "He wouldn't try to take advantage of me," she insisted. "Snape may not be the nicest person in the world, but he's not a predator. Harry and Ron just don't like him, and they don't like it that I do."  
  
Ginny spread apart her fingers wide enough for her eyes to peek through and said, "You like him?"  
  
"Not like that," Hermione quickly said once she realized what Ginny was getting at. "I've just discovered that he's a good person deep down inside - really deep down inside. We just had to give him a chance" She paused, then added, "And some Shakespeare."  
  
Ginny wasn't convinced. "Parvati told me this yesterday morning, and she told me to watch him at rehearsal and then see what I thought. I watched him yesterday. He looks at you a lot."  
  
"I look at him a lot, too. It's how we tell if the other one is thinking about something."  
  
"And I hear that he's a lot nicer to you in class."  
  
"He's a lot nicer to everyone in class," Hermione replied, "even Neville." All the Slytherins, it seemed, were being nicer to everyone else, and in turn, everyone else was being nicer to the Slytherins. The play seemed to be bringing the school together in a way they never thought possible.  
  
Ginny sighed and dropped her hands. She could tell she wasn't going to win. "Just be careful, okay?"  
  
"Always."  
  
~~~  
  
"Well, may you see things well done there: adieu! Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!"  
  
Harry finished his line and walked off to the right, leaving Terry Boot and Wayne Hopkins alone on the "stage". Terry looked at Wayne. "Farewell, father," he said, and exited to the left.  
  
As Terry left, Wayne spoke his line. "God's benison go with you; and with those that would make good of bad, and friends of foes!"  
  
"And blackout," Hermione said when Wayne was done. "Nice job, everyone, especially you, Ginny."  
  
Ginny blushed slightly. Not only was she off-book, she hadn't missed a single cue or dropped any words during the entire two-hour rehearsal.  
  
"Tomorrow, Act Three, same time," said Snape. "Dismissed. Longbottom, a word, if you please."  
  
Hermione watched out of the corner of her eye as Neville nervously approached Snape, and smiled to herself. Even though Snape had been a lot nicer to Neville lately, she doubted Neville would ever stop being afraid of him. She placed her script in her bookbag and took out the instructions for Wolfsbane Potion for one more look before starting.  
  
"You're good, Longbottom," Snape told the trembling lead actor. "I didn't think you could do it when Miss Granger over there first cast you as Macbeth, but ever since hearing you read, I haven't doubted you at all. You just keep it up, you hear?"  
  
Neville nodded vigorously, obviously shocked that he wasn't getting reprimanded. "Yes, sir," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Thank you, sir."  
  
"You're welcome. You can go now. And leave the door open. I'm expecting Professor Dumbledore in a little while."  
  
Neville thanked him again and left the room. Snape looked at Hermione. "Ready?" he asked.  
  
She nodded and set the instructions down on the table in front of her. "Yes."  
  
"Good. This way."  
  
He led her over to a table on one of the side walls. A small cauldron was already set up, but a fire had not yet been lit. An assortment of ingredients was lying on the table, including several bowls containing various powders, four flasks with different-colored liquids inside them, some wolfsbane, and a small vial containing a few drops of red liquid. The cauldron was about half-filled with a liquid Hermione didn't recognize. "What is that?" she asked, pointing to the cauldron.  
  
"It's called Kihari Serum," Snape answered. "It's the base for the potion. It's also banned by the Ministry of Magic. It has to be imported from Africa, and you need a special permit to use it. Even then, there's still restrictions. You have to have a specific reason for needing it, and in this case, it's Wolfsbane. I'm the only one at Hogwarts that has a permit. No one else can touch it in its unaltered state, not even Dumbledore, or we'll be in a lot of trouble."  
  
"Why is it banned?" She reached into her robes for a rubber band, and pulled her long, thick hair back into a loose ponytail to keep it from falling in her face while they made the potion.  
  
"Because it's also the base for some of the most powerful and deadly potions in the world," he said. "Making those potions is like casting one of the illegal curses. It could send you to Azkaban for life."  
  
"Yikes," Hermione said, and turned her eyes away from the cauldron. "I'll just keep my distance, then."  
  
Snape smiled at her. "Let's get started. First, we need a fire."  
  
"Allow me," Hermione said, and pointed her wand at the cauldron. "Incendio."  
  
Flames shot out from the tip of her wand, and instantly, a nice small fire was burning underneath the cauldron.  
  
"Good," said Snape. "Very good."  
  
Hermione put her wand away and chuckled. "Yeah, I'm practically a Potions Master already."  
  
"Almost, actually. At the rate you're going, I'd say two more years, tops." He picked up one of the bowls and began shifting its contents around.  
  
She was a little surprised; she had only been joking when she said that. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what the first ingredient besides the base was. "Now we need... powdered root of asphodel."  
  
He nodded. "Two pinches." He set the bowl down and secured a small amount of the powder between his thumb and forefinger.  
  
"I've got the second pinch," she said as he added the ingredient.  
  
"All right. Next is-"  
  
"One drop of Bundium secretion."  
  
"Right again."  
  
Hermione placed her hand on the second flask, containing a dark green liquid. "This is it, right?"  
  
He confirmed with a nod of his head.  
  
She picked up the flask, held it over the cauldron, and let one drop slide out. It made a hissing sound upon impact. "Did I do something wrong?" she asked nervously.  
  
"No, it's supposed to hiss," Snape said. "I think I forgot to mention that this a 'noisy' potion." The left corner of his mouth twitched upward into a half-smile. "Just wait until it howls."  
  
"'Howls'?" Hermione repeated.  
  
"Yes, howls." He picked up another flask. This one contained an orange liquid. "Tubeworm juice.""One fourth cup," she said, and handed him the measuring cup.  
  
"Thank you," he said, and took it from her. Their fingers brushed at the handoff. Had Hermione not been so quick to smile and look away, she would have seen that Snape did the same thing.  
  
Once one fourth cup of tubeworm juice found its way into the potion, Hermione named the next ingredient. "One crushed tooth of wolf."  
  
"Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, witches' mummy, maw and gulf of the ravin'd salt-sea shark," Snape sang in falsetto. Hermione laughed, and Snape was unable to fight back a grin of his own. He wasn't quite sure where that came from, but what surprised him more than his sudden inclination to make a musical allusion to Macbeth was how much he enjoyed the sound of her laughter. Laughter from anyone was a sound rarely heard in his presence.  
  
"Where are you, wolf tooth?" Hermione asked, scanning the table for the desired ingredient.  
  
"Here it is," Snape said, and reached for it.  
  
Hermione spotted it just as he was speaking, and she reached for it as well. Their hands touched again, and both of them smiled. "Sorry," Hermione said, and slowly pulled her hand away.  
  
Snape picked up the crushed wolf tooth. "The next ingredient, essence of belladonna, has to be added within five seconds of the wolf tooth," he said, nodding toward the fourth flask, which held a small amount of a pale pink liquid. "I've already measured out the amount needed. I'll put in the wolf tooth, and then you add that."  
  
Hermione picked up the flask. He asked her if she was ready, and she nodded. He dumped the crushed wolf tooth into the cauldron, and as soon as he pulled his hand away, she poured in the essence of belladonna. A low rumble, like distant thunder, was heard after the last drop hit the surface of the potion.  
  
Snape added a bezoar to the potion ("to neutralize the toxin in the wolfsbane," he explained), then turned to Hermione and said, "Now, here's where it gets tricky. We have to add the wolfsbane and the fluxweed at precisely the same time. If it's not performed exactly right, the potion will explode, and Hogwarts will be short one Potions Master and one Head Girl."  
  
"You don't get many mistakes in this one, do you?" Hermione asked, reaching for the bowl containing the wolfsbane.  
  
"No, you don't," Snape said. "And be careful with that. Don't touch it with your fingers. Wolfsbane is extremely poisonous."  
  
She gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm always careful."  
  
He felt a smile of his own creep across his lips. "I know." He picked up the fluxweed and held it over the cauldron. "Ready?"  
  
She nodded. On the count of three, the two of them emptied the contents of their bowls into the cauldron. A puff of green smoke appeared, and then dissipated. "Did it work?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Well, we're still here, aren't we?" he replied.  
  
She smiled and nodded. "Yes, we are. Next is leech juice, right? Where is it?"  
  
"Right over there." He pointed to the fourth flask.  
  
Hermione picked up the flask and held it over the cauldron. "How much?"  
  
"Three drops." She started to tilt the flask downward. Snape felt she had it at too sharp of an angle, and his hands reached out and covered hers. "Let me help you," he said.  
  
She didn't so much as blink as his hands went on top of hers. Together, they angled the neck of the flask down, and leech juice crept toward the opening. "That's one," Hermione said as a drop fell out of the flask and into the potion.  
  
"Two," Snape said when another drop fell out. "And… three."  
  
They pulled the flask back before any more leech juice could drip out. Snape took his time in letting go of her hands. She smiled shyly and set the flask down. "Now we need… a vial of the affected person's blood."  
  
Snape picked up the small vial that contained a few drops of red liquid, and Hermione reasoned that it was blood from Professor Lupin. "This is where it howls," he warned her as he removed the stopper from the vial. "Be ready."  
  
As soon as the last drop of blood was added, an ear-splitting howl escaped from the cauldron. Hermione couldn't help wincing at the chilling sound. When it died down, Snape spoke. "It's done." He pulled the cauldron off its stand and walked over to another table. Hermione extinguished the fire beneath it with a flick of her wand and utterance of a few words, and then followed him over.  
  
"There it is," Snape said as he poured the contents of the cauldron into a goblet. "Quite possibly the most difficult potion you'll ever make."  
  
Hermione gazed at the goblet. The potion looked like water. "It wasn't too bad," she said. "I have to admit that I was a little worried when you said it would explode if we didn't add the wolfsbane and fluxweed at the same time, but other than that, I found it to be a rather enjoyable experience." She looked at him. "Should we take it to Professor Lupin?"  
  
"Professor Dumbledore will be here in a few minutes to pick it up," he replied. "Thank you for your help. I appreciate it." That was the truth. Wolfsbane Potion was very difficult to make, even for him.  
  
She smiled. "No problem. Thank you for letting me help." She found her thoughts drifting to the conversation she had with Ginny on her way over to rehearsal. At the time, she dismissed it as nothing, but couldn't help but wonder if there was any validity to it. It was true that her relationship with Snape had improved considerably over the course of the last few weeks. It was true that she was actually starting to enjoy his company. She could even go as far as admitting that they had been doing a fair amount of flirting. But was there anything real there? Only one way to find out. "Professor Snape?"  
  
"Yes, Miss Granger?"  
  
"May I tell you something?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
She took a deep breath to prepare herself. "I just wanted to say that I was wrong about you," she said. "I thought you were just a grumpy, bitter cynic who was mean because you didn't have anything better to do. But I was wrong. That's not what you are at all, and I wanted you to know that I'm sorry for thinking that."  
  
Her declaration surprised him, but he tried not to let it show. "Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, Miss Granger," he said.  
  
"Yes, but no one deserves to have someone else think things about them that aren't true."  
  
"Well, in that case, I have a confession as well," Snape said. "Ever since you first came here, I thought you were just a show-off who acted smart all the time for attention. I was wrong about you, too, and I'm sorry."  
  
She smiled and blushed slightly. "You have nothing to apologize for. I am a show-off."  
  
"And I am a grumpy, bitter cynic, and don't you forget it."  
  
Hermione laughed, and Snape found himself smiling as well. "You know," she said, "you should smile more. You have a nice smile." When he didn't smile with the intention of being cruel, of course.  
  
"Thank you." He paused, then added, "Hermione."  
  
She loved the way he said her name. She wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came to mind.  
  
Snape's hand reached out and smoothed back the strands of hair that had escaped from her ponytail. His fingers brushed against her cheek as he withdrew his hand. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, looking down. "I shouldn't have done that."  
  
Hermione knew what she was about to do was crazy, but for some equally bizarre reason, she felt that it was the right thing. Slowly, her slender hand reached out and touched his cheek, turning his face toward him. They made eye contact, and for a few moments, neither one moved. Then, she leaned forward and kissed him.  
  
As soon as Hermione's lips touched his, Snape came alive, and eagerly returned the kiss. He had to fight to keep himself from making it too passionate too quickly, and he allowed her to be the aggressor. The kiss was soft at first, but quickly escalated in intensity. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. Both knew they could get in a lot of trouble for this, but at the moment, they didn't care.  
  
They were so focused on each other that neither one remembered that the door was wide open.  
  
"Severus, is the - oh, my..."  
  
Snape and Hermione quickly pulled apart. They looked toward the door, and when they saw who was standing there, the best moment of their lives quickly turned into the worst.  
  
Snape cleared his throat and averted his eyes. "Headmaster." 


	11. In which Albus tries very hard not to be...

A/N: Well, I managed to crank out another chapter before taking off. Go me. ^_^ The stuff in asteriks about halfway through is a flashback to 1945. (Speaking of 1945, chapters 3 and 4 are written and will be posted before I leave) I'll try to have an update ready to type up when I get back. I think that's it. Hope everyone enjoys Order of the Phoenix, and, in the words of Lady Macbeth, A kind good night to all!  
  
~~~  
  
Albus Dumbledore fought hard to keep control of himself. So it had finally happened. History was indeed repeating itself. Hermione Granger and Severus Snape had finally given in to the attraction that he had seen forming between them for weeks. He should have expected it, but even so, he was still surprised.  
  
Both Hermione and Snape were in a state of shock. It was Snape who summoned up the ability to speak first. "The potion is ready," he said.  
  
Dumbledore glanced at the goblet. "I see that, Severus. Come with me, both of you. Now. Bring the goblet."  
  
Snape picked up the goblet, trying to keep his hand steady. He and Hermione walked over to the door. Dumbledore showed no external signs of anger, but the look in his eyes indicated that he was fighting to keep it in. "Follow me," he said, and started walking.  
  
They walked in silence through the school until they reached Remus Lupin's chambers. "The goblet, please," Dumbledore said. Snape handed him the goblet, and he thanked him. "Wait here," he instructed, and knocked on the door. Lupin's voice bade him enter, and he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.  
  
Snape and Hermione made eye contact, and although both wanted to say something, neither seemed to be able to find the right words. Finally, Snape spoke. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Why are you apologizing?" she asked. "I kissed you."  
  
"No, you just beat me to it."  
  
"Stop trying to take the blame. I kissed you."  
  
"I kissed you back."  
  
She looked briefly at the door, then back at him. "Are we in trouble?"  
  
He nodded. "Probably."  
  
Hermione summoned up whatever courage she had left, looked at him, and said, "It was worth it."  
  
Much to her dismay, he smiled at her. "Yes, it was."  
  
They were just about to kiss again when the door to Lupin's chambers opened and Dumbledore stepped back out into the hall. He cleared his throat loudly, and Snape and Hermione quickly put some distance between themselves. The headmaster looked at Hermione. "Please return to your dormitory," he said.  
  
She glanced at Snape before leaving, and he mouthed, "I'll take care of it." He touched her on the arm as she walked by him. Dumbledore said nothing.  
  
When Hermione was out of earshot, Snape sighed, looked at Dumbledore, and said, "I can explain-"  
  
"Not here," Dumbledore interrupted. "My office."  
  
~~~  
  
By the time she reached the Gryffindor tower, Hermione was beginning to feel the weight of what had just happened. She kissed Snape. A month ago, she would have never believed that she would do something like that, much less enjoy it. Even in her head, it sounded outrageous. She kissed Snape and enjoyed it. Then she went and almost kissed him again, even though they had already been caught.  
  
Caught... that word sent chills up and down her spine. The headmaster had caught them committing the ultimate breach of protocol. She and Snape had stepped far beyond the boundaries of an acceptable student-teacher relationship. She could be expelled, and he could be sacked. Hermione suddenly felt sick. Would both of their lives be ruined because she kissed him? How could she have been so stupid?  
  
~~~  
  
"Sit," Dumbledore instructed when he and Snape arrived at his office. Snape sat down in a large leather armchair. Dumbledore remained standing, and began pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself. Finally, he stopped, and looked at Snape. "I don't know where to begin."  
  
"Then let me," Snape said. "I'm going to be completely honest with you, Headmaster. I wish I could say that I'm sorry for what I did, but I can't, because I'm not. I kissed her, and I loved every second of it."  
  
"I gathered that. You do realize what this means, don't you?"  
  
Snape sighed. "Yes, I do. But please - don't expel her. I'll resign. I'll never come back here again. Just don't expel her."  
  
"I'm not going to expel her, Severus, and your job is just as secure as ever."  
  
Snape was puzzled. "What?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "That's right. You know as well as I do that I could remove both of you from Hogwarts forever, but I will do no such thing." He sighed and glanced at the ceiling. "I will not be a hypocrite."  
  
Snape instantly knew what Dumbledore was talking about. "Minerva."  
  
"Exactly." Even now, over fifty years later, he remembered every detail about the moment when he confessed his feelings for his student to the headmaster, every single word exchanged between himself and Dippet. He'd figured Dippet would find out eventually, and it was better to do it this way than let him discover on his own...  
  
*** Dumbledore sighed and tapped his fingers against his knees. It was too late to back out now. The only choice he had was to go on and hope for the best.  
  
Dippet stopped writing, set his quill down, and looked at his friend and colleague. "What was it you wanted to tell me, Albus?"  
  
Dumbledore sighed again, stood up, and started walking toward the desk. "I'm in love."  
  
Dippet smiled. "Albus, that's wonderful."  
  
Dumbledore shook his head. "No, it's not. She's a student."  
  
The headmaster's expression changed from happy to a look of shock mixed with realization. "Minerva McGonagall."  
  
"Yes." He stopped walking, turned around, and went back to the chair. "I can't help it, Armando," he said, sitting down again. "She's... I don't even know where to begin. I had no idea it was possible to feel this way about another human being. I don't know how or why, but when I'm with her, I feel... complete."  
  
"I get the idea. Does she feel the same way about you?"  
  
Dumbledore closed his eyes and nodded.  
  
"How long has this been going on?"  
  
"Three months."  
  
"Three months," Dippet repeated. He sighed. "You leave me with only one choice."  
  
"Armando, we're engaged. No matter what you do, you won't seperate us. Where she goes, I go."  
  
Dippet studied him for a few moments. "You're really willing to give up everything for her?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Like I said, you leave me with only one choice," said Dippet. "You've managed to keep this secret for three months. Keep it under wraps for the rest of her time at Hogwarts. After that, you can do what you please."  
  
Dumbledore couldn't believe his ears. "You mean..."  
  
Dippet nodded. "It hasn't affected your professional performance that I've seen, and since you're obviously not going to end your relationship with her, this is our only choice. Maintain the secrecy. If anyone even begins to suspect something-"  
  
"They won't," Dumbledore said quickly. "No one will know."  
  
"Good. Now get out of here before I change my mind." He smiled to himself and went back to writing.  
  
Dumbledore felt like dancing. He stood up and walked over to the door. Just before he opened it, though, he turned around and looked at the headmaster. "Armando?"  
  
Dippet looked up.  
  
"You're not going to tell anyone, are you?"  
  
"Of course not," Dippet said. "You know me better than that." Just then, something else occured to him. "Albus, don't tell Indira. Ever."  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "Don't worry." ***  
  
Dumbledore's mind returned to the moment, and he looked at Snape. "How long has this been going on?"  
  
"About ten minutes."  
  
Dumbledore stopped walking and sat down in a chair next to Snape's. "You and Miss Granger aren't the only ones breaking the rules right now," he said. "I am going to allow this to continue because I did the same thing. It would be hypocrisy if I didn't."  
  
Snape was stunned. His entire life had changed in the timespan of a few minutes. He was sure it was all over when Dumbledore walked in on them, and now, here was the headmaster saying he was going to allow whatever they had to continue. A relationship with his student. A month ago, he would have cursed himself just for thinking about something like that. But now...  
  
"You do understand that this will be conditional," Dumbledore said. "You must maintain complete secrecy. No one can know of this."  
  
"What about-" Snape began.  
  
"I will tell Minerva when I feel the time is right," Dumbledore interrupted, sensing what Snape was about to say. "She's been in this situation, too, but I don't think she'll take it as..." He paused, searching for the right word. "... well as I am."  
  
Snape nodded. "All right." He still couldn't believe it. One kiss didn't mean a lifetime together, but somehow, he knew it wasn't a fluke. She was brilliant. She was powerful. She liked potion making and Shakespeare. At this point, he didn't care that she was a Muggle-born Gryffindor twenty years younger than him. And the headmaster was going to allow him to pursue a relationship with her, providing, of course, that it remained secret. He had to be dreaming.  
  
"You're not dreaming," said Dumbledore.  
  
Snape looked at him. "Can you read minds or something?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled for the first time since catching them. "I am capable, yes, but I see no reason to do so when it's practically written all over your face."  
  
Snape sighed and ran his hands through his hair absentmindedly. "I know it's crazy, but the thing is, it feels right. I can't explain why. I mean, for starters, she's twenty years younger than me..."  
  
"I'm eighty years older than my wife, Severus," Dumbledore pointed out. "You think that didn't turn some heads?"  
  
Snape couldn't think of a reply to that one.  
  
"Send her an owl," Dumbledore instructed. "Tell her what I have told you, and then let me know whether or not the two of you believe you have something. If this is for real, we certainly aren't going to let a little thing like rules stop it, are we?"  
  
He shook his head. "No, we're not."  
  
~~~  
  
After arriving at the Gryffindor tower, Hermione went up to her dormitory, laid down on her bed, and stared at the ceiling, blinking about once every forty seconds. When she did blink, it was only to hold back tears. In many ways, it was good that they had been caught by Dumbledore and not someone else; Dumbledore was much more understanding than most, and besides, he had been in a situation almost identical to theirs. But would he allow them to start something? And what about Snape? Hermione was willing (much to her dismay), but she didn't know if he would be, too. And if not, would she ever be able to look him in the eyes again?  
  
Six blinks later, she heard a tapping sound on the window next to her bed. She sat up, realized her eyes were extremely dry, and blinked rapidly to rehydrate them. When she could see clearly again, she leaned over, lifted the latch on the window, and pushed it open. A small brown owl with a piece of paper tied to its leg flew in. It was a note, and it was from Snape.  
  
Hermione opened the drawer of her nightstand and searched for something to give the bird. She didn't have any owl treats, owing to the fact that she didn't have an owl, but spotted an opened bag of cat treats. She didn't think Crookshanks would miss one, so she offered it to the owl. It hesitated at first, but decided to take it anyway, and then flew away.  
  
Hermione's heart raced as read the note. Snape had written it so quickly that it was almost illegible, but after spending so much time working with him on the play, she had gotten rather good at deciphering his handwriting. "Dumbledore will allow it, providing we keep it secret," the note said. "If your answer is yes, meet me at the top of the Astronomy tower at nine o'clock. If your answer is no, then don't go, and we'll continue with life as if it never happened. Here is mine: let me enfold thee and hold thee to my heart. S.S."  
  
She glanced at her watch. It was a quarter to nine. Fifteen minutes was more than enough time to get to the top of the Astronomy tower, but there was no harm in being early.  
  
~~~  
  
Snape was already there when she arrived. He was standing next to a window, gazing out at the starry sky above. He heard her coming and turned away from the window. For almost a full minute, they just looked at each other, neither speaking nor moving. It was Hermione who finally broke the silence. "Hi," she said.  
  
"Hi," he returned.  
  
Another silence followed. Suddenly, Hermione walked over to him and began talking very quickly. "I can't believe you quoted King Duncan," she said. "I mean, come on; he was talking to Banquo when he said that."  
  
"Fine, then." He took her hands in his and cleared his throat. "If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."  
  
She smiled. "That's not Macbeth."  
  
"I know."  
  
He leaned in to kiss her, but at the last second, she turned her head away and said, "Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."  
  
"Have not saints lips, and holy palmers, too?" he asked, unable to fight back a grin.  
  
"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer."  
  
"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do! They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."  
  
"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake."  
  
"Then move not while my prayer's effects I take. Thus from thy lips, by thine my sin is purged."  
  
Hermione allowed him to kiss her this time, and when it ended, she said, "Then have my lips the sin that they have took."  
  
"Sin from my lips?" Snape said. "O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again."  
  
They kissed again. "Thinking R and J for next time?" she asked when it was over.  
  
He shook his head. "No; never really liked that one. Not quite as frustrating as Hamlet, but close."  
  
She smiled and nodded. "But did Shakespeare ever write anything that wasn't frustrating?"  
  
"And why are we talking about this now?"  
  
"Well, what would you rather talk about?"  
  
He stroked her hair, then kissed her on the forehead and said, "Why talk at all?"  
  
No further words were exchanged between them until good night almost an hour later. 


	12. In which Ginny does Hermione a favor

A/N: A thousand apologies for taking so long to update.  Forgive me?  *puts on innocent puppy dog face*  I'm at college now and I don't know how often I'll be able to update, but I'll do my best to balance everything.  (Had a heck of an adventure _getting_ here, but that's another story.  ^_^)  Anyway, enjoy the chapter that took me so long to write, and I'll try to get the next one out faster.  (I know, I say that all the time… bah, it'll go up whenver it gets done.)

            Two weeks later, at the start of December, the entire cast was off-book, work on costumes had started, set construction began, and everyone was counting off the days until New Year's Eve.  The morning of December third, exactly four weeks from the performance, a groggy Hermione awoke to find an owl scratching at the window by her bed.  Upon letting it in, she saw that it was carrying a letter from the Ministry of Magic.  Hermione suddenly became fully alert, and tore the letter open.  She had been expecting this.

            Hermione knew she had to show the letter to Snape.  She read it twice, then tried to remember what day it was.  Wednesday.  She frowned.  She didn't have Potions on Wednesday, and this couldn't wait until rehearsal that night.  The sooner she told him, the better.  She saw only one option: find him now.

            She dressed quickly, then left the Gryffindor tower and began walking through the school, wondering where she should check first.  It was too early for him to be in his classroom, so she decided to look there only if she couldn't find him anywhere else.  She contemplated going over to his chambers, but realized that it probably wouldn't be a good thing if anyone saw her there.  Finally, she concluded that the safest option would be to wander the school in hopes that she would cross paths with either Snape or a teacher that could take her to him.

            She didn't have to wander for long.  Two hallways down from the Gryffindor tower, she spotted Minerva McGonagall walking toward the Transfiguration department.  "Professor McGonagall!" Hermione called, and started jogging to catch up to her teacher.  "May I have a moment?"

            Minerva stopped walking and looked back at her student.  "You may, Miss Granger," she answered.

            "Do you know where Professor Snape is?"

            "May I ask why?"

            Hermione showed Minerva the letter from the Ministry of Magic.  "I need to speak to him regarding this.  It's important that I find him as soon as possible."

            Minerva nodded.  "I see.  Well, as you know, teachers' chambers are off-limits to students, but he's probably already awake and lurking around the school, so that wouldn't help you anyway."  She pulled out her wand and conjured a quill and piece of parchment out of the air.  "You have my permission to check the staff room."

She scribbled something onto the parchment with the quill, then handed it to Hermione.  "Permission in writing, in case there is a problem," she said.  "The password is 'solar tadpoles'.  If he's not there, I would suggest his classroom."

            Hermione smiled at her.  "Thank you," she said, and began walking toward the staff room.

As Minerva watched Hermione go, the thought that should have guessed that it had something to do with Snape crossed her mind.  Dumbledore had been right about her reaction – he'd told her a week ago about the relationship forming between Hermione and Snape, and she hadn't taken it nearly as "well" as he had.  The thing that bothered her most was that she knew she had no right to be upset.  Her situation had been nearly identical; the biggest difference being that she and Dumbledore were never caught.

The thing that surprised Minerva the most when she learned about Hermione and Snape was that she was surprised at all.  She'd wondered if it might happen since she had been in a similar state, but never seriously thought it would, mostly because of the history between the couple in question.  Up until they started working on _Macbeth_, they hadn't even liked each other.  One would think that after committing the ultimate breach of student-teacher protocol herself, she would be able to see when it was going to happen again.  

By contrast, Indira Nay only needed about ten seconds to figure out what was going to happen, and that was weeks before the kiss took place.  Indira, though, seemed to have a knack for that, as Minerva had discovered years ago.  She found herself smiling at the memories.  Indira long suspected a relationship between Minerva and Dumbledore, but she could never prove anything, and it drove her crazy.  She was one of two people who were not surprised when Minerva and Dumbledore announced their engagement; the other being Armando Dippet, who had been told by Dumbledore some three weeks earlier.  Indira had, however, come close to catching them, and although their long list of narrow escapes hadn't been too funny then, it certainly was now.

Minerva spent a few more moments in thought, then resumed her journey toward the Transfiguration department.  She was certain Hermione and Snape were aware of the risk they were taking, and she could only hope that it would be worth it.

"Solar tadpoles."

The door to the staff room opened, and Hermione went inside.  She glanced around, but couldn't see Snape.  She did, however, see Flitwick, sitting on a couch and reading the _Daily Prophet.  "Professor Flitwick!" she said, getting her teacher's attention.  "Have you seen Professor Snape?"_

"Professor Snape?" Flitwick repeated.  "No, not this morning… and – wait a minute.  How did you get in here?"

"Professor McGonagall gave me the password so I could find Professor Snape," Hermione answered.  "If you see him before I do, could you please tell him I went down to the Potions classroom?  It's important."

"Why don't you just turn around?" came a surly voice from behind.

She did, and found herself face-to-face with none other than Snape himself.  "I need to talk to you, Professor," she said, trying to keep things formal in front of Flitwick so he wouldn't start to suspect something.  She handed him the letter.  "I just got this a few minutes ago."

"What is it?" Snape asked as he started to unfold it.

"It's from the Department of Magical Transportation," Hermione answered.  "Our request for the Portkey has been processed, and we have to go down there on the sixth to make it final."

"The sixth?" Snape repeated.  "That's Saturday, isn't it?"

"Yep."

"It'll take all day, won't it?"

"Yep."

He frowned.  "We were supposed to have a full run-through with the blocking on Saturday."

"Yep."

"And Professor Lupin and Professor McGonagall were supposed to teach Malfoy, Creevey, Crabbe, Goyle, and Boot the choreography for Banquo's death scene."

"Yep."

"This is bad."

"Yep."

"Could you say something useful, please?" he asked, trying not to smile.  Their new relationship resulted in him finding this conversation amusing, but they couldn't take the chance of Flitwick thinking they were cooperating for reasons other than the greater good.

"I'm trying, sir," Hermione replied.  She was having trouble concealing her amusement, too, even though the situation wasn't funny at all; it was, in fact, quite serious.  Saturday's rehearsal was vital, and if they couldn't be there to make sure everything ran smoothly…

Suddenly, she gasped.  "I've got it," she said.  "Ginny."

"Ginny Weasley?" said Snape.

Hermione nodded.  "Yeah.  You know, our Lady Macbeth?"

"I am aware of what part she plays."  

"She's good.  In fact, she's very good.  She could do it."

"Run an entire rehearsal?" he said skeptically.

"Everyone's doing a good job.  They could probably rehearse by themselves," said Hermione.  "She could just… you know, officiate.  Professor Lupin and Professor McGonagall will be there, so if she _does have problems…"_

"Well, we can't afford to lose that rehearsal, and if we can't be there, then I suppose this is the best option," said Snape.  "Can you speak to her about this?"

She nodded.  "I'll do it right now."

"Good.  See you at rehearsal tonight, then?"

She replied in the affirmative, thanked him, and left.  Snape watched her go, then went inside the staff room.

"I thought you didn't like her," Flitwick commented.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, my friend," Snape replied.  "Thus thou must do, if thou have it; and that which rather thou dost fear to do than wishest should be undone."

Flitwick sighed.  "I think you might be spending too much time on that play, Severus."

"Ginny?"

Ginny Weasley groaned and opened a sleepy brown eye.  "Go away," she said to the girl sitting on her bed, and pulled her covers over her head.

Hermione pulled Ginny's covers down.  "Ginny?" she said pleadingly.

Ginny grunted and pulled the covers up again.

Hermione poked Ginny through her comforter.  "Giiiiiiiinnnnnnyyyy???"

"WHAT?" Ginny cried, sitting up in bed.

"Can you do me a favor?"

She groaned.  "What could possibly be so important that it would require you waking me up at…"  She grabbed Hermione's wrist and looked at her watch.  "… at _six oh nine in the morning?  We need all the sleep we can get, you know!"_

Hermione explained the situation with the Portkey.

"Oh," Ginny said when Hermione was done.  "That's bad.  There's a rehearsal on Saturday, isn't there?"

Hermione nodded.

"Did you come to tell me it's cancelled?" Ginny asked hopefully.

Hermione shook her head.  "Nope.  Sorry."

"Then I'm going back to sleep."  Ginny grabbed her comforter, laid down, and pulled it over her head.

"Ginny!" Hermione said.

"Mmmmpf!" was Ginny's reply.

Hermione took a deep breath, then said in a soft, calm tone of voice, "I want you to run Saturday's rehearsal."

Ginny sat up again, now fully awake.  "You _what_?"

"Se – Snape and I can't be here, so we wanted you to do it," Hermione said, hoping Ginny wouldn't notice her little slip.

No such luck.  Ginny arched an eyebrow suspiciously and said, "You so just almost called him Severus."

Hermione could feel her cheeks turning red.  "I did not!" she insisted.

"Oh no, you totally did."

"Okay, so _maybe_ I did…"

"Ha!  I knew it!"

"But you know, we do have to work on the play a lot, and calling him Professor Snape wastes a lot of time after a while…"  She hoped her excuse sounded a lot better to Ginny than it did to her.

"'Mione's got a crush, 'Mione's got a crush…" Ginny sang.

"I do _not_!" Hermione said.  At least that was the truth.  Whatever this thing with Snape was, it was definitely a lot more than a crush.  "Look, do you want to run Saturday's rehearsal or not?  If you say no, I'll go to Malfoy, and you will _definitely_ regret that."

Ginny laughed.  "Not as much as you would.  Sure, I'll do it."

"Thank you!" Hermione said.  She threw her arms around Ginny and hugged her tightly.

"Whoa there," Ginny said, smiling mischievously.  "Save it for Severus."

Hermione let go of Ginny and blushed an interesting shade of red.  "I'll get you the master script after Friday's rehearsal.  And the costume-makers are going to start next week.  I'll give each cast member their fitting-time at rehearsal today."

"Who's making the costumes?" Ginny asked.

"Megan Jones, Parvati Patil, Luna Lovegood, Pansy Parkinson, and myself."

"Luna Lovegood?" Ginny repeated.  "Why didn't she try out for the play?"

"She said she wasn't interested at the time," Hermione answered, "but she's more than willing to help out with the costuming.  She's shown me some sketches, and they're good."

Ginny shrugged.  "Okay, whatever.  So: tonight, rehearsal and fitting times.  Saturday, full run-through with blocking."

"Oh, and after that, Professor McGonagall and Professor Lupin are going to come by to teach Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Boot, and Colin the choreography for Banquo's death scene.  I'll need you to hang around for that and take notes on it so _Professor Snape_ and I can know how it went," Hermione said, putting emphasis on the words "Professor Snape" so Ginny couldn't accuse her of slipping up again.

Ginny smiled, but said nothing.

"That settles it, then," Hermione said, standing up.  "See you at rehearsal."

"… and on Saturday, Professor Snape and I have to go to London," Hermione informed the cast as she finished wrapping up her comments after the rehearsal of  the text's Acts Three and Four that night.

"Will we still have rehearsal?" asked Ernie McMillan.

Hermione nodded.  "Yes, there will be rehearsal.  Professor Lupin and Professor McGonagall will be here, but Ginny's going to be running it."

A murmur ran through the members of the cast.  Hermione caught Draco Malfoy shooting a disdainful look in Ginny's direction, and she hoped he wouldn't give her any trouble.

"Why do you have to go to London?" Millicent Bulstrode asked.

"To finalize the Portkey authorization for the show," Snape answered.  "Saturday's rehearsal is crucial.  If I receive word that any of you make things difficult for Miss Weasley…"  He made eye contact with several students, including Draco.

"And that's it," Hermione said, glancing at Snape, "unless you want to add anything, Professor Snape."

"I think you've pretty much covered it," he said.  "Dismissed."

Hermione stayed behind as usual as the students left the room, but didn't say anything to Snape until she was sure all of them were halfway back to their house common rooms.  "Does Professor McGonagall know?"

"About… us?" he asked.

She nodded.

"I don't know," Snape answered.  "I haven't asked Dumbledore yet… why do you ask?"

"Well, she was the one I saw this morning when I was looking for you, and I just started thinking… their situation was almost exactly like ours, wasn't it?"

"Not quite," Snape answered, "but very similar.  We're closer in age than they are, and they always liked each other, not necessarily in a romantic sort of way."  He felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  "And they never got caught."

Hermione had to fight back a smile, too.  "They probably remembered to keep the door closed."

"Yes, and a good thing, too; remember Indira Nay?"

She crossed her eyes, wrinkled her nose, and stuck out her tongue.  "How could I forget?"

"I told you she was my Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor.  Did I ever tell you that she was also Professor McGonagall's Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor?"

"No, I don't think you ever did."

"Ah.  Well, if you think she has it in for _you_…"

Hermione chuckled.  She could see where this was going.  "Point taken.  Is the door shut?"

He nodded, took her into his arms, and kissed her.  "And locked."

A/N: Had to work Luna in somehow.  I like her for some reason.  That's all.  ^_^


	13. In which there is a near catastrophe

A/N: GASP!  IT'S AN UPDATE!  AAAACK!!  Once again, I apologize for how long this took… stupid writer's block.  Hope you enjoy.

            "All right, everyone, backstage!" Ginny cried at the beginning of Saturday's rehearsal, clapping her hands together.  "Come on!  Let's go!  We've got a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it!"

            "She sounds like Hermione," Harry said to Neville and Ron as the three of them followed the rest of the cast backstage.  The rooms behind the teachers' table in the Great Hall had been ordained as "backstage", and it was there that everyone gathered before beginning the dress rehearsal.

            Neville nodded.  "She _does_.  That's kind of scary."

            Ron shot Neville a surprised look.  "Neville, are you okay?  You sound kind of…  hoarse."

            "I'm all right," Neville assured him, and smiled to emphasize his point.

            Harry frowned.  He could see what Ron meant.  Neville's voice did sound a little softer and hoarser than usual, and his skin looked a little pale.  "Maybe you should go see Madam Pomfrey," he suggested.

            "Are you kidding?" Neville said.  "Ten seconds before a dress rehearsal?  Ginny'll kill me, and if she doesn't, Hermione will."

            "Okay, people, listen up!" Ginny boomed.  "It's exactly twenty-five days until opening night, and we aren't even _close_ to ready!"

            "Now she _really sounds like Hermione," Ron whispered to Harry and Neville._

            "Ron, pay attention!" said Ginny.

            "Even more so now," said Harry, and the three  boys had to try very hard to keep from laughing.

            Ginny glared at them, then continued.  "Okay.  This is our first full off-book rehearsal with blocking.  There's a lot of pressure on us to do a good job.  Please, please, _please give one hundred percent in this rehearsal.  And when we're done, I need Colin, Terry, Vince, Greg, and Draco to stay behind, and Professor McGonagall and Professor Lupin are going to come by and teach you the choreography for Banquo's death scene."_

            Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other.  They weren't used to being called Vince and Greg.

            Ginny clapped her hands.  "Okay!  Places, everyone!  Witches, onstage!  Everyone else, backstage!  Let's move!"

            "But who did bid thee join with us?" Crabbe, the first murderer, said as he, Goyle, and Terry came onstage for the last scene in Act One, where Banquo was murdered.

            "Macbeth," Terry, the third murderer, replied in an innocent tone of voice.

            Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other, then Goyle, the second murderer, said, "He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers our offices and what we have to do to the direction just."

            A hint of a smile flickered on Terry's face.

            "Then stand with us," Crabbe said to Terry.  "The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day: now spurs the lated traveler apace to gain the timely inn; and near approaches the subject of our watch."

            "Hark!" Terry exclaimed.  "I hear horses!"

            "Give us a light there, ho!" Draco called from offstage.

            "Then 'tis he: the rest that are within the note of expectation already are i' the court," Terry said, stepping between Crabbe and Goyle.

            "His horses go about," said Crabbe.

            "Almost a mile: but he does usually, so all men do, from hence to the palace gate make it their walk," Terry replied.

            "A light!" Goyle exclaimed.  "A light!"

            The three murderers took several steps back; Hermione told them they would eventually be hiding behind a tree once the set was built.

            Draco and Colin came onstage.  Draco was carrying his wand, which they were pretending to use as the torch for the time being.

            "Tis he," said Terry.

            "Stand to 't," said Crabbe.

            Draco looked at Colin.  "It will be rain tonight," he said.

            "Let it come down," said Crabbe, and the three murders came out.

            "O, treachery!" Draco cried.  "Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly!"

            Colin started running, but Goyle stepped in his way without realizing it, and Colin tripped over him and landed on Draco, who in turn when sailing into Crabbe and then fell to the ground.  Crabbe was so surprised that he fell, too, and landed right on Draco.  Terry, dumbfounded, took a few steps back, then said, "Ginny!"

            Ginny dashed out onto the stage.  "What the…"

            Terry helped Crabbe off of Draco, whose face was twisted with pain.  "Malfoy, you all right?" Ginny asked, dropping down to her knees next to her fellow thespian.

            "What, I'm not Draco anymore?" he asked through clenched teeth.

            Ginny had seen Draco fake injuries many times before, but she could see the truth in his eyes; this was no charade.  "Oh no."

            "What?" Draco asked,

            Ginny picked up the two pieces of wood lying on the floor next to him.  "Your wand."

            Draco's jaw dropped.  "My _wand_?" he choked.

            She nodded sadly.

            He tried to sit up, then cried out in pain and dropped down to the floor again.

            "What is it?" Ginny asked.

            "My wrist," he choked.

            Ginny gasped when she saw Draco's wrist.  It was bent at an unnatural angle, and the skin around it was red and blotchy.  "It's broken," she said.  "Oh, Hermione is going to _kill me…"_

            "It wasn't your fault," he said.

            She was a little surprised that he didn't have some curt reply, but didn't point that out.  "Someone take him down to Madam Pomfrey," she said.

            By this time, the entire cast was assembled out onstage.  "I will," Dean Thomas said, stepping forward.  "I don't have a part in the second act."

            "Thanks, Dean," Ginny said.  She stood up, then extended her hand to Draco.  "Here.  Let me help you."

            Draco stared at her for a few seconds, then sighed and grabbed her hand with his good one.

            She pulled him up, and then held out the pieces of his wand apologetically.  He took them, mumbled "Thanks," and stuffed them into his pocket.  Then, holding his arm with his good hand, walked with Dean out of the Great Hall.  Ginny looked ready to cry as they left.  She sighed, then looked at the rest of the cast.  "I guess we should keep going."

            "You all right, Gin?" Padma Patil asked.

            Ginny nodded.  "Yeah, I'm fine.  I'm just scared."

            "Why?" asked Harry.

            "Think about it.  Malfoy just broke his wand _and his wrist while __I was supposed to be in charge," Ginny replied.  "Hermione is going to have.  My.  _HEAD_."_

            "I'm sure she'll understand," said Hannah Abbott.  "It was an accident.  It could have happened even if Hermione _was here."_

            Ginny knew Hannah was right, but she couldn't shake the guilt.  "I know, but still…"

            "Well, um… should we keep going?" Neville asked.

            Everyone looked at him.

            "I mean, the show must go on, right?" the lead actor said.

            "Neville's right," Ginny said with a nod.  "We have to keep going.  Places for Act Two, everyone.  Justin, can you run backstage, grab the master script, and stand in as the ghost of Banquo?"

            "Sure!" Justin Finch-Fletchley said, and dashed backstage.

            "Okay," Ginny said.  She sighed.  "And away we go."

            Draco and Dean returned just as Parvati was beginning her Hecate speech.  Ginny, who had been waiting anxiously, dashed over to them as soon as they came in.  "Thanks, Dean," she whispered so as not to interrupt Parvati.  "Draco, I am so, so, _so sorry."_

            "For what?" Draco whispered back.  "It wasn't your fault."

            "I know, but I was supposed to be in charge, and now I feel irresponsible for letting something like this happen," Ginny said.

            "How many times do I have to say that it _wasn't your fault_?" Draco said.  "_Accident, Ginny, __accident."  He raised his hands and bent his wrists back and forth.  "See?  Good as new."_

            She stared at him for a few seconds, then said, "You called me Ginny."

            He shrugged.  "You called me Draco."

            Dean mouthed the words "Excuse me," and quietly made his way backstage.

            Draco and Ginny continued to play stare-down for a little while longer, then Draco said, "Fine.  Let's say, for the sake of argument, that it _was_ your fault.  Now you feel horrible and you want to make it up to me, right?"

            Ginny didn't see where he was going with this, but she _did_ feel guilty, so she said, "Okay…"

            "Here's what you can do," he said.  "Hogsmeade visits have been moved to Sundays because so many people are involved with the play.  There's one tomorrow.  Come with me and let me buy you dinner at The Three Broomsticks."

            Ginny had to work to hold back laughter.  "Are you asking me out?"

            A smile slowly spread across Draco's face.  To Ginny's surprise, it wasn't his usual sneer, but an actual, genuine smile.  What surprised her even more was that she started smiling, too.

            It was just past sunset when Hermione and Snape Apparated to Hogsmeade.  Hermione had become quite skilled at the difficult spell over the summer, and although she wasn't powerful enough to go all the way from Hogsmeade to London in one go, they managed to make it in three.  She was exhausted when they arrived at their destination, but laughed it off and said, "Well, it beats Floo powder."

            Snape smiled.  "Yes, it certainly does."

            They walked over to a bench outside the train station, and sat down so she could recover.  For almost ten minutes, they sat in silence.  He had his arm around her, her head was on his shoulder, and their breath made soft white clouds in the cool air of the December evening.  Eventually, Hermione broke the silence and said, "You know, it's really cold."

            "Yes, it is," he replied, and kissed her on the top of the head.  "Think you can make it back to the school?"

            She nodded.  "Yes, I think I can."

            He stood up and offered his arm.  She took it, and he helped her stand.  Their eyes met, and once again, they were still.  Then Hermione smiled and said, "We're never going to get back to the school."

            "Well, if you would just stop looking at me long enough for me to collect my wits, we _would," Snape responded, and planted a kiss on her temple._

            She laughed.  "Oh, so now it's _my fault?"_

            "You kissed me first, remember?"

            "No, I didn't; I just beat you to it, remember?"

            "How could I forget?"

            They gazed at each other for a few more minutes, then Snape said, "You're right, we _are never going to get back to the school."_

            Hermione chuckled.  "Come on."

            They walked halfway to the school arm in arm, but as they drew closer, they realized that it would probably be best to put some distance between them so as not to arouse any suspicion.  Their reputations weren't the only ones at stake; Dumbledore, too, was putting himself at risk by allowing this to continue.  They wanted neither to expose themselves or betray his trust.

            They said good night and parted at the Great Hall.  Hermione was still fatigued from Apparating across the country, so her plan was to crawl into bed and sleep, but first, she wanted to find out how the rehearsal went.  The first thing she did when she reached the Gryffindor tower was seek out Ginny.

            She didn't have to look far.  Ginny was sitting cross-legged in an armchair near the fire, reading Macbeth.  "Hermione!" she exclaimed when she saw Hermione come in.  "How did it go?"

            "Fine," Hermione answered, walking over to her.  "Our Portkey for the evening of Wednesday, December thirty-first, is completely legal.  How was rehearsal?  Did anyone give you any problems?"

            "Rehearsal was great," Ginny answered.  "And wait until you see the fight scene Professor McGonagall and Professor Lupin came up with.  It's _awesome_.  The guys practiced it for two hours and still wanted to keep going, they liked it so much."

            "Great!" Hermione said.  "Anything else?"

            Ginny blushed and said, "Well, this doesn't really have anything to do with the play, but… Draco Malfoy asked me out."

            Hermione gasped.  "Really?  Gin, that's _great!  What did you say?"_

            "Yes, of course," she answered.  "I used to hate him, but ever since the play…"

            "Yeah, the play seems to be brining out the good side of the Slytherins, huh?" Hermione said without thinking.

            A sly grin crossed Ginny's face.  "You are totally crushing on Snape, aren't you?"

            "_Ginny_!" Hermione said.  "Knock it off!"

            Ginny laughed.  "I'm just joking," she said.  "Get some sleep.  You look tired."

            "I _am tired," Hermione said.  "And thanks."_

            "For what?"

            She shrugged.  "For everything."


End file.
